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GOING ABROAD? 


SOME ADVICE 


BY ROBERT LUCE 


FOURTH EDITION 


BOSTON 

CLIPPING BUREAU PRESS 
68 Devonshire Street 





COPYRIGHT, 1897, 1900, 1905, 1906 

BY 

ROBERT LUCE 







CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO . 

Age and Sex, 7; Seasons and Climates, 10. 

CHAPTER II. 

WHERE TO GO. 

For Sight-seeing, 23; In Search of Health, 29. 

CHAPTER III. — 

HOW TO GO. 

The Fast and the Slow Trip, 35; Life on Shipboard, 
38; Choosing a Cabin, 40; Seasickness, 42; Fees, 
Meals, etc., 44 ; Working a Passage, 50. 

CHAPTER IV. 

HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD . 

Sleeping, Dining and Smoking, 58; Rail Detail, 60; 
Trunks and Luggage, 63; Fares and Tickets, 66; By 
Boat, 69; By Vehicle, 74; On Foot, 79. 


CHAPTER V. 


BICYCLE TOURING. 

Touring Clubs, 88; The Wheel and Its Parts, 95 ; Prep¬ 
arations for the Trip, 101; Comment on Countries, 
105; En Route, 116; Transportation of Bicycles, 122. 

CHAPTER VI. 

HOW TO STAY. 

In European Hotels, 127; As to Hotel Bills, 129; In 
Pensions, 141; In Lodgings, 144; Housekeeping, 146; 
Study in the Universities, 158; Language Study, 163; 
Music, Art, and Other Studies, 166; Fees, 168. 


PAGE 

5 


22 


35 


53 


86 


125 





iv 


CONTENTS. 


HOW TO SEE 


CHAPTER VII. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 

Letters of Credit, 185; Currency, 188; Going 
Through Customs Houses, 192; Foreign Prices, 
198; Where to Buy Specialties to Advantage, 
199 ; Souvenirs and Photography, 205; Post, Ex¬ 
press and Telegraph, 208. 

. CHAPTER IX. 

PERSONALITIES. 

Baggage, 217; The Little Things, 220; Clothing, 
222 ; Food and Drink, 228; Tobacco, 230; Man¬ 
ners and Customs, 231. 

CHAPTER X. 

SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 

Learning a Language, 239; Guide Books, 243; 
Historical and Place Novels, 249; Preparatory 
Reading, 253. 

CHAPTER XI. 

MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS . 

Tramping in Normandy, 255 ; Wintering in 
Italy, 259 ; Touring in Spain, 262; Taxometer on 
Parisian Cabs, 264; Damage Claims by Hotel 
Keepers, 264; Commercial Travelers, 265: Rail¬ 
way Tickets, 266; Cheap Travel in Switzerland, 
268; On English Railways, 269; Shopping Pecul¬ 
iarities, 270; Random Notes, 271. 

APPENDIX ......... 

Where to Find Famous Works of Art, 273; 
Summary of Expenses, 276; Weights and Meas¬ 
ures, 278; Table of Distances, 279; Ocean Dis¬ 
tances, 280; London to Paris, 281 ; Money Table, 
282 ; Thermometers, 282; Distance Objects are 
Visible at Sea, 282 ; Difference in Time, 282 ; 
Speed of Mail Steamers, 283. 

INDEX . 



GOING ABROAD? 


CHAPTER I. 

WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 

It may be assumed that most people who will read 
this, want to go to Europe and know why they want to go. 
It is hardly worth while to waste any time over the man who 
has no desire to see the land of his ancestors, to view the 
scenes made familiar by the pen of the historian, the story¬ 
teller, or the poet, to enjoy the art treasures of the Old 
World. If a thousand books of travel, if lectures and letters 
innumerable, if the enthusiasms of home-coming tourists 
have not aroused a longing to cross the Atlantic, it would 
be futile for me to try where the most potent of human 
influences have failed. 

My province, then, should be to aid those who want to 
go and can go, but do not know just how, when, and where 
to go; to encourage those who really have the means to 
go, but fear they cannot afford it; to save time, vexation, 
and money for those who have decided to go, but lack 
experience of their own and have no experienced friends 
from whom to get the desirable information. It is possible, 
also, that aid can be given even to those who have talked 
the matter over with the most expert of tourists, for rare 
is the man who, having done a thing himself, can remember 
all the doubts and uncertainties that perplexed him before 
he did it. Any feat accomplished seems easy enough after¬ 
ward. Then, too, mole-hills for one man may be moun¬ 
tains for his successor. So, though I set myself deliberately 
to conveying all the information on this topic that may 
occur to me as likely to be useful, I may omit answers to 



6 


GOING ABROAD? 


many questions that might be asked. But it is tolerably cer¬ 
tain that I shall answer more than any questioner would 
be likely to think of in one conversation. 

To advance reasons why anybody should go to Europe 
may be dispensed with, but it may not be useless to advise 
you to know yourself why you are going, to have your 
object clearly defined in your own mind. Surely your trip 
cannot be intelligently planned if you are misty as to its 
purpose, and surely it would be foolish to devote some 
months of your life, possibly some years, to an expedition 
without definite aim. To be sure, travel for its own sake is 
beneficial, as all wise men have agreed from time imme¬ 
morial. “Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits,” and 
though travel will not make a gem out of a pebble, nothing 
else will so quickly cut the facets of a diamond mind. 
It is, then, far from useless to journey through a foreign 
land with no other idea than to enjoy its scenery, its build¬ 
ings, and its art, to observe the customs of its people, and 
to live for a while ac they live. Yet there is greater satisfac¬ 
tion in returning with the belief that you have done some¬ 
thing. however little it may be, toward mastering some one 
branch of knowledge. The purposeless traveler with any 
desire at all for self-improvement may come home conscious 
that he is a wiser and a broader and a more cultured man 
than when he went away, but his conscience will not be 
wholly satisfied if he cannot say to himself, “I can speak a 
foreign language now,” or, “I can now tell what is a hand¬ 
some church, and why it is a handsome church,” or, “I have 
learned something of the rudiments of singing,” or some¬ 
thing else. 

Of course, a hasty trip gives little chance for study, and 
no one object can be pursued systematically in even a long 
trip, unless you stay in one place time enough to go at it 
earnestly; yet if, for example, you have read up some on 
architecture before going abroad, six weeks’ observation in 
Continental cities will at least fix in your mind what you 
have read. 

If the object of the trip be simply rest and recreation, 
it is still worth while to remember that you have an object. 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 7 

What can be more absurd for a man worn out by the whirl 
of New York than to jump into the whirl of London or 
Paris! Or for the woman exhausted by the social functions 
of her home city than to harass herself with preparations for 
presentation at Court! 

More pertinent than moralizing on how not to rest, will 
be the suggestion that an ocean trip with a few weeks of 
foreign travel may prove the most health-giving change a 
tired man or woman can find. Hundreds of people go 
abroad every year for that alone, and believe it the most 
delightful vacation they can take. 

As a vacation, it is not so very much more costly than 
one of the same sort at home. We will go into details of 
expense later, but it may be said here that it costs no more 
to take a two months’ trip abroad than to put two months 
into making the tour of America’s watering places; or, if 
staying in one spot is preferred, the extra cost of a European 
vacation over that of one in the States, is never more than 
the expense of going and coming, and is usually much less. 
It is probably cheaper to go to Europe than to go to Florida 
for anything more than a month; and certainly is less ex¬ 
pensive than to go to Southern California. 

AGE AND SEX. 

As for age, nobody not in the first or second childhood 
is too young or too old to profit by a European trip. Any 
boy or girl of talking age will pick up a foreign language 
with an ease and celerity astonishing to the adult, and will 
thus profit to a degree well worth the pains of taking a child 
a-journeying. When the young person is old enough to be 
left at boarding school, a year in one where foreign lan¬ 
guages are spoken will accomplish as much as two years 
at home, if the languages are to be deemed an important 
part of education. Many youths have with profit substituted 
a year at some German university for one year of the course 
at Harvard or Yale. Of course for advanced students the 
benefit of foreign universities is incalculable. 

The notion that young men who have wild oats to sow 
can do it more readily abroad than at home, is not sustained 


8 


GOING ABROAD? 


by the facts. Everywhere on the Continent the rational use 
of beer and wine is a safe-guard for youth more than a temp¬ 
tation to it. Of course there is drunkenness, but I am 
inclined to the belief that the young American by himself 
abroad, while learning little of abstinence, learns more of 
temperance and self-control than when thrown on his own 
resources in an American city. 

There is no more chance to get gambling habits in Paris 
or London, than in New York or Chicago. In the university 
towns gambling is as rare as in our own colleges. 

In the matter of chastity, European and American 
notions differ radically, and though not more than in other 
large cities perhaps, there are as many Trilbys in Paris as 
-ever, but intimate acquaintance with many young men who 
have gone to Europe to study, leads me to assert with con¬ 
fidence that they seldom forget Puritanical teachings, and 
that any fellow with brains enough to profit by a foreign 
trip can be as safely trusted on one side of the water as on 
the other. 

Apart from the matter of study, to my mind the Euro¬ 
pean trip brings most profit to the man or woman of 
mature years, yet not beyond the learning period. Of course, 
there are many people who keep their minds in the receptive 
condition to the very last, people who will take up Greek 
at 50, and plunge into calculus at 70. Yet most people, by 
the time they get into what is called the prime of life, have 
their habits of thought so settled, their prejudices so rooted, 
their ambitions so satisfied, that travel, if undertaken for the 
first time, has comparatively slight educating influence. El¬ 
derly people, too, who have never traveled, may find it 
hard to accommodate themselves to the change in their daily 
routine, and the frictions of journeying sometimes try their 
patience and temper unduly, though it is the fact that women 
from 55 to 70 often accommodate themselves to circum¬ 
stances more cheerfully than many of the younger people. 

The matter of sex need not affect in the slightest the 
question of foreign travel. If an American girl wants to 
study art, music, or languages, and has the means, there is 
not the least reason why she should not go alone to Paris or 


9 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 

Berlin or Vienna to do it. Under like conditions there is no 
greater fear of insult abroad than at home. The only differ¬ 
ence I have ever heard of, is that in Europe young unmarried 
women with regard for their reputations do not go out in the 
evening without escort, but the same thing is true of the 
larger cities here. English women think nothing of taking 
their vacations on the Continent. 

In the mere matter of travel Europe offers in some ways 
more comfort and convenience than America to women jour¬ 
neying alone or in parties without men. They need never 
touch their luggage unless they choose. At hotels and rail¬ 
way stations they will always be more courteously treated 
than men,—and that is saying a good deal. The railway cars 
have separate compartments for women. Cabs abound every¬ 
where. 

To make foreign travel still easier, there exists an ad¬ 
mirable organisation called the Women’s Rest Tour Asso¬ 
ciation, which may be addressed at 264 Boylston Street, 
Boston. “Its object is to furnish women who wish to travel 
for purposes of rest and study, with such practical advice 
and encouragement as shall enable them to do so independ¬ 
ently, intelligently, and economically. It is not designed 
for the convenience of women who organize or condutt 
large parties.” And it may be added that it is in no way 
a money-making institution, there being neither salaries nor 
dividends for anybody in it. Mrs. Julia Ward Howe is the 
president, and other well-known New England women are 
on the hoard of officers. It publishes a handbook of travel, 
entitled “A Summer in England” (to which I would here 
give credit for some of the information hereafter given); 
issues yearly a revised list of accredited lodgings and pen¬ 
sions over all Europe, with details concerning prices and 
accommodation: publishes an occasional paper called The 
Pilgrim Scrip, devoted to travel and life abroad; exchanges 
introductions between m mbers who desire company; lends 
money from its traveling fund (under careful supervision) 
to provide vacation trips for women greatly in need of rest 
and change; advises in regard to travel; lends from its 
library of Baedeker guide-books for the European trip; and 


10 


GOING ABROAD? 


in minor ways accomplishes its laudable purpose. The fee 
for the first year’s membership is $2; annual fee thereafter, 
$1; life membership, $25. If but a small part of the wealthy 
American women who get enjoyment out of a trip abroad, 
would, by becoming life members of this Association, aid it 
in helping their less fortunate sisters to the same enjoyment, 
its sohere of usefulness could be greatly widened. 

SEASONS AND CLIMATES. 

If it is for a vacation that the trip is to be made, un¬ 
doubtedly the best time to go is in the early summer. 
Europe on the whole is cooler than the United States, and 
of course two or three weeks on the ocean save just so much 
of the discomforts of dog-days. Switzerland in July and 
August is to Europe what the White Mountains are to New 
England, and at the same season Scotland, Norway, Sweden, 
and Russia are delightful. But the difference in temperature 
between most of Central Europe and the United States in 
summer is not enough to make it worth while going there 
at that time for climatic reasons alone. 

Many a wise American who can take his vacation when 
he will, endures the heat of the city during mid-summer, 
and then ranges the mountains, the sea-shore, or the woods 
in early autumn. Others find the most good in seeking the 
trout brooks when the grass and foliage are freshest, when 
the drain of a hard winter on the system has made the air 
of April or May most delightful to a physique exhausted by 
the fight with our Northern winter. So, too, if one is to go 
abroad simply for physical good, it may be wisest to go not 
when the climate left at home is at its worst, but when the 
climate reached on the other side is at its best. 

As many people, by reasons of the limitations of a busi¬ 
ness or profession, must go in June if at all, and return in 
August or September, the steamers are then most crowded. 
Therefore their owners not improperly charge a higher rate 
across in the late spring and early summer, a higher rate 
back in the late summer and early fall. In spite of this 
the demand for berths is so great that they must be engaged 
weeks or even months in advance, unless the tourist can run 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 


ii 

the risk of getting at the last moment some berth that has 
been given up, when he may be lucky enough to secure the 
best of accommodations. 

From November to April there is usually plenty of 
room, and travelers to whom crossing is an old story fre¬ 
quently take no more precautions than they would to secure 
a berth in a sleeping car for Chicago or St. Louis. In the 
winter, payment for a single berth usually secures a whole 
stateroom to yourself, and you have practically the pick of 
the boat. Sometimes on the smaller boats there will not be 
half a dozen first cabin passengers. 

From the point of view of both economy and comfort, 
then, it is wiser if practicable to travel when the winter rates 
are in force. The fear of stormy weather doubtless deters 
many people from doing this, but the fact is that though 
the chances of severe storms are greater in winter than in 
summer, they are not enough greater to cut any figure with 
those who cross repeatedly. This matter of storms is largely 
one of luck. Crossing in January, I have left New York in a 
snow-storm, and on no day afterward had the mercury 
register below 55, only to hear within a week after 
reaching the other side that for days after we left New York 
every steamer entered that port ice-clad, and several were 
seriously delayed. That was the trip when I vowed I never 
again would take an ulster across, and yet even in August 
the thickest of ulsters is sometimes none too warm in mid¬ 
ocean. The icebergs are plentiful in spring, and no doubt 
it is dangerous to scrape acquaintance with an iceberg, yet 
to delay a trip through fear of icebergs would be about as 
sensible as to refuse to travel on a railroad in a thaw be¬ 
cause the roadbed gets loose more frequently then than at 
other times. 

It should be said that the steamers which run from New 
York to Mediterranean ports in winter are as crowded as 
those that run to Liverpool, Southampton, etc., in summer. 
The winter rates to Genoa correspond with the summer 
rates to Hamburg and Bremen, so that in this regard 
nothing is to be saved by winter travel, but undoubtedly 
the southern passage is the milder, and with less storms. 


12 


GOING ABROAD? 


On the other side, too, winter travel has many advan¬ 
tages over that of summer. The trains are seldom half full, 
and it is a rarity when a couple cannot get a compartment 
to themselves, if they want it. The hotels are less crowded, 
and you average better accommodations for the same 
money. You see the sights more at your ease. 

If the society life of London and Paris has attractions, 
the late spring is the time for you to study it. The London 
“Season,” as it is called, theoretically begins after Easter 
and lasts till August 12. It is at its height in June, when 
come the Ascot races, with their royal processions. But 
to the stranger without letters of introduction or any way 
of getting inside the doors of “society,” perhaps during the 
“season” may not be the best time for visiting London. 
All the hotels are then crowded, and that is a nuisance to 
the traveler. Good places at the theatres are hard to get. 
the museums and galleries are thronged, the shop-keepers 
are rushed. To be sure, the climate is then most propitious; 
you can see royalty and nobility and gentry at the races 
and in the parks; ladies who want to study the styles get 
plenty of chance; people who like a bustle and a crowd can 
gratify their tastes. But to one who wants to see London 
itself, to learn the ways of its people, to study its collections, 
its buildings, its administration, or any of its serious phases, 
the “season” is not the most propitious season. In mid¬ 
winter the climate is not attractive. Fogs are often a 
nuisance, and when there is no fog, it is usually bleak, wet, 
and what the English call nasty. Perhaps, then, the fall 
and early spring are the best times in which to visit London. 

In France the conditions are somewhat different. To 
be sure, Paris, too, has its season (coming about the same 
time as the London season and ending earlier), but the 
wealthy Frenchman makes Paris his home, taking his vaca¬ 
tions in the country, and many wealthy Englishmen, per¬ 
haps the majority, live in the country, taking their vacations 
in London, so that Parisian hotels are not so crowded as 
London hotels in May and June. In those months the 
climate of Paris is charming, the Bois de Boulogne is at 
its best, all the parks are delightful, the two Salons are 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 


*3 

open, and the conditions are the most satisfactory for every 
kind of sight-seeing. 

The spring and fall are undoubtedly the best times for 
Italy. The winters, to be sure, are nominally mild; snow 
is a rarity in Naples, and seldom stays long in Rome, Flor¬ 
ence, or Venice; and the thermometer calls few days frigid. 
But the mercury lies in Italy. When it registers 50, you 
suffer more than with it at 20 in America, — not in the sun, 
of course, but on the shady side of the street and indoors. 
It is the damp, penetrating chill, of a kind to which few 
Americans are accustomed. The houses are all of stone, 
designed to be cool in summer rather than warm in winter, 
and they are not really heated. Steam-heat is rare; “the” 
occasional stove is a wretched failure; and most of the fire¬ 
places smoke. Wood i-s expensive, and always charged for 
if burnt in one’s own room. Even with a blazing fire in the 
fire-placo, the chamber has a clearly defined torrid, temperate, 
and frigid zone. There is seldom any attempt to warm the 
museums and galleries. 

Do not, however, get the idea that Italy is unendurable 
in winter. It has charms at every season of the year, and 
its January is certainly more comfortable than a Boston or 
New York January, but it is not Paradise. 

The warmest parts of Italy visited by the ordinary tour¬ 
ist are the two Rivieras (shores), one commonly called the 
Riviera, running from Nice to Genoa, where lie Mentone, 
Monte Carlo, San Remo, etc.; the other a still more beautiful 
coast, on the sunny side of the rocky promontory that 
bounds the Bay of Naples on the South, of which Amalfi 
is the gem. The Riviera from Nice to Genoa is sheltered 
from cold north winds by the barrier of the Alps, is full in 
the face of the sun, and often does not see a snow-storm 
for years. Semi-tropical plants grow freely, and the tem¬ 
perature is so mild that many victims of lung troubles are 
sent there to convalesce, or die. It has hotels innumerable, 
which are for the most part well filled during the first four 
months of the year. Queen Victoria usually went there for some 
weeks in the early spring, and it abounds with royalty and 
nobility. 


14 


GOING ABROAD? 


Save in such sheltered spots as San Remo or Venti¬ 
miglia, the scenery of Italy is naturally at its worst in winter, 
for then the landscape is brown and bare. It is at its best 
in April and May, before the sun has begun to burn up 
things. May is certainly the best month for tl e Italian 
Lakes, unless one prefers to go in October, when the fruit 
is ripe and the weather usually delightful. June is a charm¬ 
ing month at Venice, though some of its days are uncom¬ 
fortably warm; later on, the canals get stale and sour. The 
summer temperature in Vienna averages about the same as 
that of Louisville, Ky. Indeed, the Italian summer is much 
like that of Kentucky or Virginia, endurable enough, but 
less comfortable than the spring. In July and August the 
thermometer at Rome averages almost exactly the same 
register as in Washington. Few of the army of American 
tourists then go south of Florence, but European travelers, 
and especially Germans, think nothing of visiting Rome in 
July or August, and I have met people who declared they 
suffered no inconvenience at Naples in dog-days. Their 
sense of smell must have been impaired, for the odors of an 
Italian city in summer are not delightful. 

The notion that Rome must not be visited in summer 
on account of the malaria in the Campagna is no longer 
supported by those in a position to speak with authority. 
Of course it is dangerous to promenade after dark on the 
Campagna, just as it is in a Western river bottom, or any¬ 
where else that malaria abounds, but tourists do not prom¬ 
enade on the Campagna after dark, nor do they drive across 
it after dark, as they often did before the time of railroads, 
when I suspect it was that Rome got its bad name as a 
summer resort. It does not yet deserve a good name, but it 
is no worse than our Southern States in the summer months, 
and if a tourist cannot well go south of Florence at any 
other time, there is little except the dread of perspiration to 
keep him from going in July or August. 

Rome is healthy in the autumn, common report to the 
contrary notwithstanding. Its October is about as warm 
as that of Georgia. The autumn is a good time for Italy 
generally; and traveling is much more comfortable than in 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 


15 

the spring, as the trains and hotels are less crowded. In 
October the vineyards are in their glory. 

Sicily has an annual temperature averaging close to that 
of South Carolina. Its climate is somewhat humid. 

Switzerland, for the passing tourist, is of course to be 
visited in summer, and in August ratiher than in June or 
July, if any mountain climbing is to be done, for while the 
snows are melting in early summer, the heights are the 
more dangerous. In September the air gets chilly and the 
shortening of the days is emphasized by the deep valleys, 
yet when the weather is fine the country is never more de¬ 
lightful. The air is often clearer and the mountain scenery 
more beautiful than in the summer. June is the next best 
month for the lower levels, but walking or climbing is 
harder in June than in November. Most of the mountain 
hotels open June 1 and close Sept. 15 or Oct. 1. Many 
foreigners pass the winter about Lake Genev.., particularly 
at its eastern end, and there are a few winter resorts at high 
altitudes, almost wholly frequented by invalids for whose 
needs a peculiar climate is desirable; but to the ordinary 
traveler Switzerland in winter is dreary. In the city of 
Geneva itself throughout the year the mean temperatures 
from month to month, correspond to those of New York 
with remarkable closeness. Geneva, Lucerne and Zurich all 
are hot in mid-summer—as hot as Paris. 

Germany’s climate is much like that of New England 
and the Middle States, with plenty of snow and with skating 
a favorite amusement. Yet though cold weather prevails, 
people who have passed winters in Germany and also in 
Italy, say they prefer Germany because the houses are 
warmly built and well provided with stoves. Munich has an 
uneven temperature and winters that are severe as winters 
go in Europe, though not with suoh extremes of cold as 
occur in the States. 

Vienna is slightly warmer than Boston in the winter, 
slightly cooler in the summer. It has sharp changes in tem¬ 
perature. 

Holland and Belgium are very cold in winter, and see 


i6 


GOING ABROAD? 


few tourists at that season. In Holland the flowers are at 
their best in April and May. 

The Danish climate in summer is not unlike that of 
England, and in Scandinavia the summers are delightful. 
The Orkney Islands are generally bright and sunshiny, with 
most invigorating air in July and August. The Channel 
Islands (Jersey, Guernsey, Aldersey and Sark) have a phe¬ 
nomenally equable and healthful climate, due to the influences 
of the Gulf Stream. In 1898 they had something more than 
2000 hours of sunshine against less than 1300 for London 
and about 1500 for Oxford. By resorting to them one can 
in a few hours and at slight expense flee the rigors of an 
English or French winter. 

In England itself much the same effect is produced by 
the ocean influences on Cornwall. The mean temperature 
of Falmouth for December is 44.2, of Penzance 43.0, while 
that of Nice is 45.4, and Pau only 42.8. Furthermore, Corn¬ 
wall has the advantage of lacking the misitral, the blighting 
wind that mars the perfections of the Riviera. 

All of Spain is very warm in summer, so that the best 
time for traveling through it is in the spring or fall. South¬ 
ern Spain is much like Southern Italy in winter. Water 
rarely freezes at Gibraltar. Oranges may be picked from the 
trees about Cadiz, Jerez, and Seville in February; but 
Granada, surrounded by mountains, is apt to be chilly, and 
not long after leaving Cordova on the journey toward the 
north the mercury begins to drop. At Madrid snow-drifts 
in winter are not uncommon and the climate is like that of 
a city in our Northern States. 

In Morocco, Algiers and Tunis the Novetmber weather 
is like that of an American June. Until April the days re¬ 
semble our bright autumn without dampness. April is one 
of the best months for a visit, as the flowers are then in 
their glory. May is like our July, and from then through 
October is rainless and too hot for American tourists. Ice 
and snow are almost unknown. Cairo is declared to have 
the best climate in the world for the three winter months. 
Perhaps eight thousand foreigners, half of them Americans, 


1 7 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 

visit Egypt every winter, but not many people go there or 
stay there after April. 

Anybody planning to go round the world would better 
leave Egypt in the early winter, so as to reach India and 
Ceylon by January. China should be reached in the spring, 
and the Japanese climate will be found agreeable in May. 

The Holy Land and the Far East are best visited in 
winter or early spring. Constantinople weather in July and 
August is exceedingly warm; May is one of the pleasantest 
months on the Bosporus. 

Athens has an equable climate which in time is going to 
make it one of the most popular winter resorts on the 
Mediterranean. With the sea south of it, and hills rising 
to mountains behind, it has a situation midway that of an 
island and a continent. The spring and autumn there are 
charming; snow falls in winter only once or twice in years; 
fogs are rare. The summers are long, but the winds coming 
over the Aegean temper its heats. 

If, then, the traveler had the time and money to change 
his climate like the birds, he would attain the maximum of 
comfort if he passed January and February in Northern 
Africa; March in Palestine and Turkey; April and May in 
Italy, Southern France and Spain; June in Paris and Eng¬ 
land; July and August in Switzerland, or Norway, Sweden 
and Russia; September in Germany; October in Austria; 
November in Greece; December in Sicily. Not that 'these 
are positively the best months for each country named, but 
that this might make the best circular tour for a year, from 
the climatic point of view. 

Of course there are other considerations that may over¬ 
balance those of climate. It is, for instance, sometimes de¬ 
sirable to plan a tour so as to bring one to certain points at 
the time of certain festivals or ceremonials. It is no longer 
worth while going to Rome for the Carnival, because the 
celebration now hardly warrants crossing the street to see, 
but it is still a merry affair at Nice, which is about the only 
place left where it is celebrated with vigor. In all Catholic 
Europe the ceremonials of Holy Week are imposing, but 
they are not always easily accessible. People wiho have 


GOING ABROAD? 


been in Rome in Holy Week have assured me they would 
not advise it for any one whose stay there must be brief, 
as they found many of the museums closed part oi the 
week, and were hardly compensated by the religious cere¬ 
monies, having no means of getting tickets to such as were 
not open to everybody. 

Christmas, everybody knows, is observed with pomp in 
all Catholic churches. At Rome from Christmas to Jan. 6 
an interesting affair is the presentation of petitions to the 
bambino in the church of Aracoeli, by children. In Rome 
and Naples on St. Anthony’s Day, Jan. 17, occurs the cere¬ 
mony of blessing the animals. On Whitsunday in Naples 
the pilgrimages made by crowds to the sanctuary of the 
Madonna di Monte Vergine, and on Whitmonday to the 
Madonna del Arco, are picturesque spectacles. On Good 
Friday the procession after sunset at Grassina, near Flor¬ 
ence, makes a weird scene; and on Easter Monday a very 
pretty festa in honor of the Blessed Virgin takes place at 
Signa, a little town easily reached by steam train from Flor¬ 
ence. At the Pardon of St. Nicolas-des-Eaux in Brittany 
on the first Saturday in August the cattle of the neighbor¬ 
hood, gaily adorned, are driven to two fountains near the 
chapel, supposed to possess miraculous virtue. Young cattle 
are presented to the Saint and afterward sold at auction, the 
popular belief being that one of them in a herd brings pros¬ 
perity. At St.-Jean-du-Doigt, near Morlaix, Brittany, the 
interesting local Pardon takes place on St. John s Eve, the 
23rd of June. 

A quaint old custom still prevails in the beautiful coun¬ 
try on both sides of the Danube, a hundred miles above 
Vienna, commonly called the Wachnau. At the summer 
solstice fires are lighted on all the more prominent heights 
of the mountains that give the Wachnau its peculiar charm. 
The picturesque towns and villages on both shores are beau¬ 
tifully illuminated and the bridges across the great river are 
ablaze with myriad lights. This festival is now called Johan- 
nisfeier, or St. John’s fete, by a devout population, but the 
old people call it by its real pagan name, Sonnenwendfeuer, 
solstice fires. 


19 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 

The 14th of July is the great national holiday in France, 
and the 29th of July in Switzerland, both being celebrated 
much like the 4th of July with us. England has no day of 
this kind, though Guy Fawkes’ day, Nov. 5, is celebrated 
after a fashion. The French observe New Years’ Day with 
much pomp. It is the great holiday in Scotland, but is not 
observed at all in England. Orleans, in France, celebrates 
on the 7th and 8th of May the defeat of the English by Joan 
of Arc. On Ascension Day (May 19 in 1900) Venice cele¬ 
brates with a procession of gondolas and general merry¬ 
making the triumph of an old Venetian admiral over 
pirates. 

In the United Kingdom the great recreation days are the 
Bank Holidays,—Easter Monday (April 11 in 1900), Whit- 
monday (May 30 in 1900), the first Monday in August, and 
December 26. Ancient holidays still observed to some ex¬ 
tent in one way or another are: January 6, Twelfth Day, the 
night before being Twelfth Night, marked by various social 
rites. February 2, Candlemas; Festival of the Purification o'f 
the Virgin; consecration of the lighted candles to be used 
in the church during the year. February 14, Old Candlemas, 
St. Valentine’s Day. March 25, Lady Day; Annunciation of 
the Virgin. June 24, Midsummer Day, Feast of the Nativity 
of John the Baptist. July 15, St. Swithin’s Day, the old 
superstition being that if rain fell on this day it would con¬ 
tinue forty days. August 1, Lammas Day, originally in 
England the festival of the wheat harvest; in the church the 
festival of St. Peter’s miraculous deliverance from prison. 
September 29, Michaelmas, the Fast of St. Michael, the 
Archangel. November 1, Allhallowmas, or All Saints’ Day, 
the previous evening being All-hallow-e’en, observed by home 
gatherings and old-time rites. November 2, All Souls’ Day, 
the day of prayer for the souls of the dead. November 11, 
Martinmas, the Feast of St. Martin. December 28, Childer¬ 
mas, Holy Innocents’ Day. The quarter days used for calcu¬ 
lating rents and tradesmen’s accounts are Lady Day, Mid¬ 
summer Day, Michaelmas and Christmas in England; Whit¬ 
sunday, Martinmas, Candlemas and Lammas Day in Scot¬ 
land. Mothering Sunday is Mid-Lent Sunday, on which the 


20 GOING ABROAD? 

old rural custom obtains of visiting one’s parents and mak¬ 
ing them presents. 

In England, Aug. 12 is the great day for sportsmen, 
when the grouse shooting begins, the open time ending 
Dec. 11. The partridge season runs from Sept. 1 to Feb. 1; 
pheasants, Oct. 1 to Feb. 1. The period for deer hunting or 
stalking varies from about Aug. 12 to Oct. 12 for stags, and 
from Nov. 10 to the end of March for hinds. There is no 
statutory close-time for fox hunting or rabbit shooting, but 
there is an unwritten law that the sportsman respects as much 
as he does the enactments of Parliament. Nov. 1 is the rec¬ 
ognized date for the opening of the fox-hunting season, 
which continues till the following April. Hares are in best 
condition in January, February, and March. The close time 
for salmon in Scotland is for rod's from Nov. 1 to 
February 10. 

Racing in England begins in the middle of March and 
lasts through November, the calendar having about a dozen 
meetings a month. The most important on the list is Derby 
Day, the Wednesday of the Summer Meeting, which takes 
place at Epsom, in Surrey, usually at the end of May, but 
sometimes early in June; then London empties itself and 
goes to the Downs in countless thousands. A week or two 
later comes the Ascot meeting, also near London, a full- 
dress picnic graced by the presence of many members of the 
royal family, and noted for the fashionable attendance. Third 
in importance are the Goodwood races, usually late in July. 
The chief steeplechase of the year, the Liverpool Grand 
National, is run in March. In Paris the Grand Prix is run 
on a Sunday early in June. 

The Oxford-Cambridge boat race is rowe l on the 
Thames near London, usually >in March. The “eights” 
week at Oxford comes in the middle of May; the Henley 
regatta late in June or July. The cricket match between Ox¬ 
ford and Cambridge is played near the end of June, and be¬ 
tween Eton and Harrow usually in July. The football season 
is much longer than with i!s, opening Sep<\ 1 in England 
and running to April 30; in Scotland it is longer still, from 
Aug. 15 to May 15. The great Rugby matches come in mid- 


WHY, WHO, AND WHEN TO GO. 


21 


winter. The Oxford-Cambridge match is played in Decem¬ 
ber. Interest in the sport resembles that in baseball with us, 
an attendance of forty or fifty thousand being not infrequent. 

Yachting regattas, pigeon-shooting contests and tennis 
tournaments attract much attention on the Riviera in the 
early spring. 

The Spanish bull-fighting season begins on Easter Sun¬ 
day and lasts into summer. 

Oxford is at its best during the Trinity term, from the 
middle of May to the middle of July; and Commemoration 
Week, usually the second or third in June, is the gayest. 
The “fourth cf June” is gala day at Eton. 

The horse fair at Bernay, Normandy, held in the fifth 
week of Lent, is the most important in France. 

When there is a Wagnerian festival at Bayreuth, it comes 
in mid-summer, but if you want to go you must write for 
tickets weeks and even months ahead; even then you may 
not get them. A letter addressed to the management at 
Bayreuth will procure the necessary information. 

The salons at Paris,—there are now two of them,—open 
in May and are kept open for some weeks. The Royal 
Academy in London is open from the first Monday in May 
to the first Monday in August. 

The fountains at Versailles generally play between 4 
and 5 of the afternoon on the first Sunday of each month 
from May to October; those of St. Cloud at the same hour 
on the second Sunday of the month. The spectacle at Ver¬ 
sailles costs about $2000 and is well worth taking much 
pains to see. 

The flower festival in the Bois de Boulogne at Paris 
comes about the time of the Grand Prix, early in June. 


CHAPTER II. 

WHERE TO GO. 


It is a mooted question whether it is or is not wise tc 
plan all the details of a foreign trip before leaving home. 

I have heard the advice of one sight-seer to the effect that 
every day should be assigned its work, and no deviation 
from the programme should ever be admitted. His theory 
is that if you allow yourself to loiter in one place, you must 
hurry in another, and so return with things undone that 
you ought to Jiave done. 

To my mind, that is making travel too much like hard 
work. Suppose it rains on the day you have assigned to 
the Bois de Boulogne or Vesuvius. Suppose somebody 
tells you of some out-of-the-way place you had never heard 
of, with customs or curiosities or a festival more interesting 
than anything you will see in Paris or Vienna,—a place at 
which without trouble you can stop off for a day or two. 
Suppose the voyage takes two days longer than you ex¬ 
pected; or that cholera breaks out in some town on jour 
programme. 

It is possible to take a Bradshaw (the time-table book) 
and determine beforehand every train you will use. 

That may be better than hap-hazard traveling, with no 
plan at all, but to my mind the happy mean is better, a rough 
outline of what you want to do, with details left to circum¬ 
stances. 

As a basis for this outline, get the pamphlets issued by 
the tourist companies and study the excursions they describe. 
The routes have been arranged by men who, for business 
purposes, have watched the preference of thousands of tour¬ 
ists and have struck averages. They have sought to learn 
the pleasantest thing for the largest number, and their con¬ 
clusions are more likely to suit the majority of cases than 

22 


WHERE TO GO. 


23 


the prejudiced verdict of any one traveler. Bad weather 
or an attack of dyspepsia may give any one man a prejudice 
against a place that to most men at most seasons will be 
delightful. 

Note carefully, however, the proportion between the 
times allotted to each place and the duration of the whole 
tour. A flying party can do Florence in two days, but an 
assiduous explorer could not cover all the ground in a week, 
possibly not in a month. On the other hand, Geneva’s sights 
can be exhausted in a day, and nobody tarries there long, 
unless it be for rest or study. 

FOR SIGHT-SEEING. 

“As many men, so many minds,” and rash is the man 
who tries to lay down the law as to what places must or must 
not be seen, as to how much time should be spent here and 
must be spent there. Yet it is perfectly safe to say that the 
great majority of foreign tourists find Paris the' most in¬ 
teresting city in Europe, and that no trip is complete without 
it. In the Louvre it has the finest art collections; in the 
Boulevards, the finest streets; in the Bois de Boulogne, the 
handsomest park; in its cafes is the best cooking; its Opera 
House leads the world; at Versailles, St. Cloud, and Fon¬ 
tainebleau, easily accessible suburbs, are the most magnifi¬ 
cent of royal estates,—still really royal, though nominally 
republican. Everybody knows it sets the fashions for all 
the ladies of the globe. And to most people its historical 
associations have more vitality than those of any other city. 
But the general opinion of tourists seems to be that it should 
not be visited early in an extended tour. After seeing it, 
many other cities seem dull, stale, or trite by comparison, 
that visited first would have charmed. Paris, then, may well 
cap the climax. 

Everybody goes to Paris. Almost everybody goes to 
London. Yet my own verdict would be that it is not so 
materially different from an American city as to make it 
preferable to many of the quainter places on the Continent, 
if one has not the time for all. But there are few people 
who would not like to see Westminster Abbey and the 


24 


GOING ABROAD? 


Tower, London Bridge and the British Museum, to say 
nothing of Mme. Tussaud’s wax “figgers.” 

Rural England is more delightful than urban England. 
It would be a pity to miss a run through the English 
country-side, with a visit to some of the cathedral towns, 
Oxford, and perhaps the Lake District. Ireland is not a 
sine qua non, by which I do not mean to say it is uninter¬ 
esting,—far from that; but it is less interesting to most 
people than Wales or Scotland. A week or two among the 
lochs and over moor and mountain should be welcome to 
anybody who knows his Walter Scott, his William Black, or 
his Robert Burns. 

From Scotland or Northern England you may if you 
like cross to Norway and Sweden. The trip to the Land of 
the Midnight Sun is now the proper thing, and a most en¬ 
joyable thing. The fjords have some of the grandest scenery 
on earth, there are waterfalls prodigious enough to be mar¬ 
vels for anybody who has not seen Canada, the people are 
charming and have not yet learned that the end of the Nine¬ 
teenth Century is at hand. 

Russia is beyond the bounds of an ordinary trip. It 
may not be true that only the adventurous get as far as St. 
Petersburg and Moscow, but it is true that the railroad rides 
such sight-seeing requires are long and tiresome, that the 
expense is not inconsiderable, and that there is little to see 
except the people themselves, their ways and their manners, 
which, to be sure, is no small thing, indeed is the most useful 
of all sight-seeing, yet in the case of Russia certainly not 
worth the effort for any one whose time is limited or whose 
purse is not weighty. 

Copenhagen is a pleasant city, but Denmark appears to 
attract few tourists. Holland is far more popular, and it is 
well worth while to plan for at least a week there, surely 
taking in Amesterdam, Rotterdam, and The Hague, with stops 
at Leyden, Haarlem, and some of the small towns; Amster¬ 
dam and The Hague alone will suffice to give an idea of the 
country, if time presses. 

Belgium is less attractive. Antwerp has a noted gallery, 
a famous cathedral, and a picturesque castle. Brussels has 


WHERE TO GO. 


2$ 

Waterloo near by, but the city itself is a miniature, Paris, 
an*d will hardly detain the wayfarer longer than will be neces¬ 
sary to enjoy its wonderful old square. 

Everybody goes up or down the Rhine, between 
Cologne (or, better, Bonn), and Mainz (Mayence), or Wies¬ 
baden, near by. The lower Rhine is not worth seeing, and 
there are Americans loyal enough to assert that the best 
scenery anywhere along its course is surpassed by that of 
the Hudson, the St. Lawrence, the Penobscot, and other 
American rivers. But of course we haven’t any castles on 
our rivers, and our scanty legends have not yet been im¬ 
mortalized in song and story. 

Nobody misses Cologne’s cathedral. At Bonn, not far 
away, or at Heidelberg, not far from Mainz, it is easy to get 
a glimpse of German student life, and at Heidelberg, too, is 
perhaps the most interesting of European castles. 

The scenery about Heidelberg is almost as charming as 
that about Baden, still farther up the valley. Strasburg, just 
beyond, has a clock that disappoints most Americans, but 
that they all want to see. The Black Forest, between Baden 
and Switzerland, is worth traversing, by train if in no more 
adequate way. 

Berlin, not very picturesque, is rather too far eastward 
for the bulk of tourist travel, and can safely be left QUt if 
need be, though of course not to be omitted by the man 
who wants to see the Prussian at home, to view the capital 
of the most powerful people on the Continent, and to visit 
Potsdam. Leipsic is an old-fashioned Saxon university 
town, and a musical centre, an economical place for a rest, 
and with many advantages for study. Dresden has one of 
the most satisfying galleries in Europe, and delights about 
15,000 visitors a year. Prague is thoroughly quaint, and 
justifies whatever effort may be made to reach it. 

Vienna is, in the opinion of many, more delightful than 
Paris. Its public buildings, its collections, its merry, care¬ 
less life, are attractions that charm all visitors. If time per¬ 
mits, a trip down the Danube, at least as far as Budapest, 
is likely to be entertaining. South of Austria come Servia, 
Bulgaria, and other little known lands that the wiseacres 


26 


GOING ABROAD? 


say are going to be favorite touring grounds, though as 
yet their hotel accommodations are not such as to free their 
inspection from all discomforts. 

Returning toward the West, the next stop would natur¬ 
ally be at Munich, unless the traveler made straight for 
Venice. Munich, too, has its galleries,—and its beer-gar- 
dens. Nuremberg, much smaller, pleases me more, and for 
my part were I to name the place in all Europe that has 
given me the most pleasure, Nuremberg would be that place. 

Switzerland is incomparable. There may be higher 
peaks elsewhere, more stupendous glaciers, but nowhere else 
is so much mountain scenery so accessible, so conveniently, 
safely, and economically accessible. The guide-books will 
suggest a score of ways to traverse it, yet I will suggest that 
if a tourist has but a week or ten days at his command for 
Switzerland, he might do much worse than start at Lucerne; 
go up one side of Rigi and down the other to Fluelen; thence 
to Goeschenen and the Rhone Glacier; next to Meiringen and 
Interlaken. After the side trip of a day to Lauterbrunnen, 
etc., on to Berne; south to Lausanne; by Vevey and the 
Castle of Chillon, up the Rhone valley to Martigny; across 
to Chamonix, at the foot of Mt. Blanc; and then down to 
Geneva and so out of the country. This combination of 
diligence riding, three or four mountain passes, perhaps the 
most delightful lakes in the world, and the quaintest of 
Swiss cities, makes a tour not to be surpassed anywhere for 
views, variety, novelty, and continuous delight. But it leaves 
out Zermatt, in the belief of many the best of all Swiss 
resorts. 

If possible ride into Italy, or walk, over one of the 
passes rather than through one of the tunnels. All the 
passes are worth seeing, but the Simplon, from Brieg to 
Domo d’Ossola, is the best. Next in scenic rank is the 
Splugen, from Coire to Colico. The Gt. St. Bernard is now 
not much used, and the St. Gotthard less still. The railroad 
journey over the Brenner pass is charming, and if you 
can linger in the Tyrol, at Innsbruck, Trent, or any of the 
resorts, so much the better. The scenery on the rail route 
from Vienna to Venice is perhaps the best to be seen from 


WHERE TO GO. 


27 


the cars. You see little going to Turin by the Mont Cenis 
route. The only other entrance to Italy commonly used 
is that along the Riviera, from Nice to Genoa, a delightful 
ride. 

In hot weather a glimpse of Italy can be secured without 
risk of discomfort by going over the Simplon to Lake 
Maggiore, thence to Milan, back to Lake Como, across to 
Lugano, and over the St. Gotthard to Lucerne. 

Tourists who take in only Northern Italy wisely spend 
their energies on Venice, Florence, Genoa, and Milan, with 
a few hours at Pisa, and possibly a stop at Verona and 
Padua. There is little to see at Turin. At least a side ex¬ 
cursion of a day or two from Milan should be made through 
the chief Italian lakes, and they are worth a week from those 
who have leisure. The Lago di Garda, close by the route 
from the Tyrol to Venice, is not often visited by Americans, 
but the slight digression from the route it requires will 
never be regretted. 

On the way from Florence to Rome, stops should cer¬ 
tainly be made at Orvieto and Siena, possibly at Perugia. 
A month or even more will not exhaust the sights of Rome, 
with all its ruins, its museums, its galleries excelling even 
those of Florence, and its four hundred churches. Naples 
will repay a week’s stay; two weeks will enable the sight¬ 
seer to climb Vesuvius, explore Pompeii, and make the tour 
of the Amalfi-Sorrento promontory, most charming of 
Edens, giving a day or two at Capri, with its wonderful 
Blue Grotto; and a month about Naples would not be tire¬ 
some. Between Naples and Sicily there is little of interest; 
and not many Americans reach Sicily. 

Excursions to Corsica and Sardinia are pleasantly re¬ 
membered by all who take them, barring the almost inevit¬ 
able sea-sickness of the passage. 

Besides Nice, Monaco, Monte Carlo, and Mentone, there 
are few places in Southe r n France familiar to American 
tourists, save of course Marseilles. On the road to Paris 
Lyons is worth a stay over night. Between Mont Cenis 
and Paris, Aix-les-Bains during the bathing season, from 
April on, is another pleasant place to break a journey. 


28 


GOING ABROAD? 


Southwest of Paris is Touraine and the valley of the Loire, 
with its charming chateaux and stately cathedrals, a region 
too much neglected by those in search of the beautiful, but 
like Normandy explored more and more every year by de¬ 
lighted bicyclists. Brittany allures the artist. North of Paris 
every enthusiast on architecture will tell you that you must 
not miss the cathedrals of Rouen and Amiens; and Rouen 
has much more than its cathedral, for it is the Nuremberg 
of France. 

In Spain Madrid is the most familiar name, but with 
your choice between Madrid and two weeks in Southern 
Spain, take the land of the Moor, see the Alhambra at Gra¬ 
nada, the mosque at Cordova, the Alcazar at Seville; glance 
at Cadiz, sip sherry in the bodegas at Jerez, bask in the 
frown of the gigantic Rock of Gibraltar; and run across for 
a day or two in Tangier, barbarous outpost of barbarism, 
where you may yet see genuine slaves, find in the thoroughly 
Moorish market-place a fanatic with a sword stuck through 
his leg, and sleep in the land of one of the few perfectly ab¬ 
solute monarchs yet remaining on the globe, in an English 
hotel with all the comforts of civilization, including perhaps 
the only finger bowls you will find in a whole European 
tour. 

Algiers is now half civilized, with streets as Frenchy 
as if they were in Paris, next Moorisih lanes, with mosques 
and minarets and all the ways of the Oriental. From there 
you may go by train to the edge of the desert, or into moun¬ 
tain scenery grand and savage. 

At Tunis again you may find almost complete barbarism. 
And at Cairo, lately become a favorite goal of the traveler, 
there are the same novelties of another civilization. The 
tour of the Holy Land is now made with the minimum of 
discomfort and the maximum of safety. When the unspeak¬ 
able Turk isn’t embroiled with European powers, Constanti¬ 
nople is visited with impunity and delight. Asia Minor, 
however, is seldom penetrated. Of Greece more than a word 
should be said. Within a generation it has taken great 
strides in catching up with the rest of the world, and Athens 
today is nearly as modern as any other European capital. 


WHERE TO GO. 


29 


Its hotels, streets, customs are all more than endurable, and 
its ruins are of course of the greatest interest to the student. 
But off the beaten tracks foreigners suffer more or less hard¬ 
ship, and women would better not venture, unless they are 
willing to put up with privations. The same thing is true of 
Spain; where many people go, you find cleanliness, good 
cooking, comfort. But go into the villages of Spain or any 
country away from the heart of Europe, and the habits of 
life are too primitive for the enjoyment of many tourists. 

Of course this brief sketch does not suggest all the de¬ 
lightful spots of Europe. Let it be taken as a rough enu¬ 
meration of those which most travelers will prefer to see or 
take the time to see. 

IN SEARCH OF HEALTH. 

To discuss the matter of health resorts, let me introduce 
my friend Bean. He shall be the Solon, the Solomon, the 
Nestor of this treatise, and at the same time its scape-goat. 
I suspect he stole much of the wisdom I may attribute to 
him, but it will be convenient to assume that he knows what 
he is talking about. If he makes any errors, don’t blame 
me. As he has the pernicious habit of writing anonymously, 
and voluminously, for the newspapers, there is a chance that 
he may really be responsible for some of the things he must 
father willy-nilly. If it wasn’t Bean, who was it that wrote 
the following:— 

“France is particularly well endowed with winter resorts 
suitable for persons with chest disorders. Not to speak of 
Algeria, Which is an exceptionally favorable resort for this 
class of patient, there is along the shore of the Mediter¬ 
ranean, from Cannes to Mentone, following the magnificent 
Corniche road, a narrow strip of land, a true paradise on 
earth, where during the worst seasons the temperature re¬ 
mains between 55 and 60 degrees, and between October and 
May there are more than 100 clear, cloudless days. In this 
succession of towns, of which there are a dozen at least, the 
effect of the wonderful climate is heightened by the fact 
that the patients are surrounded by all the luxury and com¬ 
forts of modern life. 


30 


GOING ABROAD? 


“In the southwest of France there is another group of 
winter resorts, equally famous, but answering to rather 
special indications. Thus, in sight of the Pyrenees we have 
Amelie-les-Bains, Pan, with its marvelously even climate and 
dry, sedative atmosphere, and Biarritz, with its bracing sea 
breezes, while Arcachon, near Bordeaux, is renowned for 
its lovely pine forests. 

“No better counsel can be given to persons with heart 
disease than to pass the winter months in a soft and bracing 
climate, such as they will find at Beaulieu, Mentone, Hyeres 
or Algiers, especially as the sea air is usually beneficial to 
them. They should use every effort to avoid sudden changes 
of temperature and an atmosphere too highly charged with 
moisture. In choosing an abode they should look for one 
that has an open situation, while at the same time not 
exposed to the winds; for this reason they will find it best 
to live in valleys rather than on the hills. 

“Exposure to cold is the most important of all the 
causes that may bring on an attack of uraemia in the course 
of a case of chronic nephritis, or inflammation of the kid¬ 
neys, which may have remained latent up to that time. By 
causing a congestive condition of the kidneys, exposure to 
the action of a low temperature reduces the function of those 
organs to a minimum, whence the conclusion from a thera¬ 
peutical point of view that a patient suffering from nephritis 
should avoid with the utmost pains sudden variations in tem¬ 
perature and life in cold and damp climates. When the 
rertai disorder is acute, the steady and regular heat of the 
bed is the condition sine qua non of a rational treatment. But 
with a chronic lesion—that is to say, with real Bright’s 
disease—the patient should wear flannel or woolen garments, 
and if living in a bad climate, emigrate to a spot with warm 
and regular temperature, such as Hyeres, Monte Carlo, Men¬ 
tone, San Remo, Malaga, Ajaccio, Palermo, Corfu, Algiers, 
or Biskra. 

“The action of cold is unfavorable to all neuropathic 
persons, and such sufferers should lose no time at the ap¬ 
proach of winter in taking themselves off to regions that 
are inaccessible to frost. Hyeres, Arcachon, Mentone, 


WHERE TO GO. 3 i 

Monaco and Algeria, and a number of resorts in Italy where 
the temperature remains in the neighborhood of 50—55 Fah¬ 
renheit, can be cited as examples of suitable winte- stations 
for such patients. Climates like theirs keep patients alive 
indefinitely, and have a remarkable sedative action, the high¬ 
est and most constant expression of which is the fact that 
persons who have lost the habit of sleeping, almost entirely 
regain it at these resorts. 

“Nice is perhaps the cheapest of all the French southern 
coast towns of today for the visitors; its hotels and persions 
outnumber those of Cannes and Monte Carlo together, and 
you can live modestly at 7 francs or $1.50 a day, and up to 
25 francs or $5 in luxury, and add as much more as you like 
for wine and special rooms. Lady Murray has opened a 
Home at Antibes, near Nice, for invalid journalists and 
writers of all nationalities at the very modest charge of one 
pound a week. The house is called Chateau de l’Esperance, 
and stands in its own extensive gardens. Application for 
admission should be made to the Hon. Lady Murray, 'ilia 
Viotoria, Cannes. The Home is closed every year from 
May to November. 

“Cannes has been for a century the most aristocratic of 
all the Riviera resorts. It is useless for the stranger to go 
there with an idea of taking part in its social life unless he 
has good letters of introduction to prominent residents. For 
living expenses you may begin at 8 francs in a pension and 
run up to 30 francs a day at a hotel, and as much more as 
you like for wine and private apartments. Nearly all the 
wealthy visitors live in villas. 

“Doctors commend Sestri for the humidity of the at¬ 
mosphere, which is greater than on the Western Riviera. 
Sestri also has a smaller rainfall—which is not inconsistent 
with the softer, damper air, although it may appear to be 
so. Excessive dryness is what makes many parts of the 
Mediterranean coast so trying to nervous persons. The more 
humid air of Sestri is subject to much less violent variations 
of temperature in the course of the twenty-four hours than 
are the greater number of southern winter stations. It is 
breezy—that is, the air is not stagnant, is often renewed— 


32 


GOING ABROAD? 


and to this fact the local wiseacres attribute Sestri’s im¬ 
munity from epidemics. 

“The volcanic region of Auvergne is in the very centre 
of France and served by two direct lines of rail from Paris. 
The true Auvergne spas are: Royat, the most fashionable', 
with its iron effervescent waters, at which gather sufferers 
from lymphatic affections, anaemia, chlorosis, catarrhal trou¬ 
bles, arthritic and certain other phases of gout; La Bour- 
boule, with arsenical waters, frequented by somewhat the 
same class of patient as the former, plus more suffering from 
rheumatism, intermittent fevers and malarial effects; Mont 
Dore, where the special treatment by inhalations of affec¬ 
tions of the respiratory organs is the foremost specialty, and 
where gather singers, actors, clergymen and public speakers, 
who remain in a room filled with vapor and spray for half an 
hour at a time; St. Nectaire, Ste. Marguerite, Medagues, 
Ch-atel-Guyon and Chateauneuf complete the group of Au¬ 
vergne spas, but are of small importance as compared to 
the three described above. Americans resident in France 
are found in considerable numbers at Royat and a few at 
Mont Dore, and it is often remarked that, having been once, 
they return again. The country is lovely in June and again 
in September; intervening months are very hot, though 
tempered by frequent thunderstorms. 

“Aix-les-Bains, in southeastern France, on the line from 
Paris to the Mt. Cenis tunnel and Turin, is perhaps the most 
delightful spa for early visitors. Gout and rheumatism are 
treated there with remarkable success. The season opens in 
April. 

“Homburg, in the Taunus mountains of Germany, not 
far from Frankfort, is the most fashionable spa in Europe. 
More English and Americans go there than to any other. 
The Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cambridge and all the 
distinguished people who are found at Cannes in the 'winter 
are grouped at Homburg in the months of July and August. 
Then the season is at its height, but it opens April 15 and 
lasts till Oct. 1. Pension rates are very moderate in April, 
May, June and September. The usual course of water drink¬ 
ing is 21 days, but without medical advice no one should use 


WHERE TO GO. 


33 


the waters for any length of time. They are salutary in 
chronic diseases of the stomach, bowels and liver, habitual 
constipation, chronic diarrhoea, jaundice, gout; for exces¬ 
sive corpulency, aneamia and various nervous affections. 
Nauheim, not far from Homburg, has sprung into favor 
within a decade, and bids fair to be the first curative spa in 
Germany. For centuries the springs of Ems have been 
visited by persons suffering from dyspepsia, catarrh of all 
kinds, nervous diseases, female ailments, gout and many other 
troubles. Baden-Baden, Kissengen, and Wiesbaden are other 
much frequented German health resorts. 

“In Austria the best known are Carlsbad, Franzensbad, 
Baden, and Marienbad. On the Adriatic is Abbazia, a winter 
resort that has crept into favor of recent years. The situation 
is charming, the wooded coast line giving protection against 
all inclement blasts, and producing an evenness of temperature 
not known in the most sheltered bays of the French Riviera. 
Moreover, in summer it is not so hot as the Riviera resorts. 
Frost and snow are practically unknown, and tropical 
vegetation is abundant and luxurious. 

“The Engadine, in southeastern Switzerland, is the most 
noted resort for tuberculous patients. Its great altitude gives 
it effects similar to those of the American Colorado. The 
hotels are chiefly inhabited by invalids the year round.” 

There are many other health resorts in Europe. To de¬ 
scribe the various advantages claimed for all of them would 
be a long task, and one of really little avail, for the invalid 
should resort to them only on the advice of some physician 
acquainted with their merits and demerits. Any American 
who can afford to go to Europe to get cured, can afford to 
pay for the advice of a physician competent to speak with 
authority on this point. Likewise to know where to go for 
some difficult surgical operation, consult a specialist before 
leaving home. 

Dr. Linn, in his Guide to the Health Resorts of Europe, 
not only urges preliminary consultation with a physician and 
deprecates acting on the advice of friends not in the medical 
profession, but also counsels a course of preparatory treat¬ 
ment before visiting a health resort. Dr. Linn says that 


34 


GOING ABROAD? 


many of the mineral water-cures have fixed the duration of 
treatment quite arbitrarily at three weeks, but that in reality 
every one requires a longer or shorter time, depending on 
many conditions for which the doctors at the stations are in 
the habit of watching. It may, however, be remarked that 
at many strong mineral springs most people become satu¬ 
rated with the mineral elements, as it were, in from three to 
four weeks; and then it is wiser to rest for a longer or 
shorter time before taking a new course of baths or waters. 
The results of mineral water cures very often do not show 
themselves for some time after the cure has been made, as 
the mineral elements continue to work in the system for a 
long time after taking them into the body. It must be under¬ 
stood that it is very often necessary to take more than one 
summer’s treatment at many of the health resorts. Indeed, 
it is not reasonable to expect a complete cure of a chronic 
malady in one season, although it often happens. This is 
even more true of climatic cures. No fallacy is more widely 
spread, and none is less based on reason and experience, 
than the expectation of immediate or rapid cure from change 
of climate. 

Competent physicians abroad as a rule charge 20 francs, 
16 shillings, $4, for first consultations and visits; the special¬ 
ists, 40 to 60 francs, $8 to #12. For instance, Professor Char¬ 
cot and such men expect 60 francs at the office, and about 
100 for a visit. In England two guineas (about $io.eo) is the 
usual fee for consultations; general practitioners take less 
for continuous attendance. At baths it is usual to charge a 
certain sum for the season. 


CHAPTER III. 

HOW TO GO. 

As a rule, where there is competition, you have to pay 
for a thing about what it is worth. 

“The bearings of this observation lays in the application 
on it.” 

Applied to ocean steamers, it means that the variation 
in rates of passage corresponds closely to the relative esti¬ 
mates put by the majority of the traveling public on the ac¬ 
commodations offered. 

For example, it costs a good deal more money to drive 
a boat across the ocean in six days than in teji days. If 
enough people were not ready to meet this extra cost, six- 
day boats would not be run. And likewise, if there were not 
enough people to fill the cabins of the ten-day boats, they 
would be given over to steerage passengers and freight. 

If, then, you feel that what suits the majority will suit 
you, it might almost suffice to determine how much money 
you can afford for the passage, and take the first thing you 
can get at that figure. But this simple solution of the prob¬ 
lem is vitiated by the fact that the tastes and needs of trav¬ 
elers differ greatly, and what may seem valuable to one man 
may seem worthless to his neighbor. 

THE FAST AND THE SLOW TRIP. 

If only the element of time were to be taken into ac¬ 
count, everybody who did not look on the sea voyage as a 
vacation, a recreation, a delightful and justifiable rest, would 
go on the fastest boat,—assuming that he could afford it. 
But there are very few travelers, once past the distressing 
period of seasickness, to whom life on an ocean steamer is 
not enjoyable. The feeling that you are completely cut off 
and shut off from the life of the land, which makes the heart 


35 


GOING ABROAD? 


36 

sink when the shore lades from view, turns into a positive re¬ 
lief after the mind and body have adapted themselves to the 
new conditions. You rre glad that you cannot see a paper, 
get a letter, be startled by a telegram, bored by an agent, 
harassed by the cares of the office, the shop, or the home. 
In a vacation on land, to be sure, you run away from these 
things, but you are always haunted by the fear that they may 
chase you. A fire, a death, any one of the calamities of life 
may summon you back to duty at any minute. But on ship¬ 
board even duty is balked. It is the one place on earth, 
though it isn’t on earth at all, where you can be supremely 
selfish without giving your conscience a chance to be bother¬ 
some. 

There is little chance to work. Almost everybody plans 
to do more or less of heavy reading, but few do it. Writing 
is out of the question for anybody requiring isolation or 
quiet, and rare is the writer who can accomplish anything 
worth reading without these aids. Even the novel is 
slighted. You become perfectly content to kill the time 
between the meals with shuffle-board, ring toss, cards, chess, 
story-telling, or plain, straight loafing, accomplished with 
the utmost satisfaction when one is stretched out on a 
steamer chair,* warmly wrapped, and basking in the sun, on 
the leeward side of a promenade deck. If it be true that you 
should 

“Count that day lost whose low descending sun 
Views from thy hand no worthy action done.” 

then the trans-Atlantic traveler may count just as many lost 
days as there are between Sandy Hook and Liverpool, or 
whatever may be his goal. 

It is, I presume, useless to hold up these pleasures be¬ 
fore the many novices from whom the apprehension of sea¬ 
sickness and the landsman’s dread of the sea take away all 
expectation of comfort during the voyage, much less hap¬ 
piness, and yet it is the fact that at any rate in the summer 
not one person in fifty is kept below by sea-sickness more 
than a day or two, or fails to get some enjoyment out of the 
trip before it is half done. 

If, then, the voyage is to be a pleasure,—as to most 


HOW TO GO. 


37 


people it is sure to be,—the longer trip may be preferable to 
the shorter trip. But, of course, there may be stormy 
weather, the fog-horn may make life a burden, the time 
available for your excursion may be limited, the demands of 
business, society, or the family may make hours precious. 
So, if you are in a hurry to get across, it might be penny¬ 
wise pound-foolish not to take the faster boat. 

If the choice were to be made solely on the score of 
comfort, most people would vote for the slower boats. To 
be sure, the faster boats are bigger, and so have longer 
promenade decks,—and that is no trifling matter. Their din¬ 
ing saloons, smoking rooms, ladies’ cabins, etc., are more 
commodious,—an advantage, even though there are more 
people to occupy them. On the large boats there are a few 
large staterooms at large prices, but the ordinary state¬ 
rooms, those used by the majority of travelers, differ little 
in size on any of the boats. The berths are just ^s comfort¬ 
able, or uncomfortable, no matter what price you pay. And 
the number of tons burden makes no difference in the space 
allotted for your steamer chair, in which you are likely to 
pass most of your time when you are not at table or sleep¬ 
ing. The chief compensation that the slow, small boats have 
for their lack of room is the lesser vibration given by the 
screw. No propeller can be driven faster without jarring 
the boat more. The quiver of a swift steamer is very an¬ 
noying to some people, though others do not mind it. In 
the matter of pitch and roll, there seems to be no difference 
caused by the mere fact that a boat travels ten or twenty 
miles an hour. It appears to be a question of model and 
load, not one of size and speed. 

Some ofthe cheapest lines get much of their revenue from 
carrying cattle to England. The boats do not accommodate 
many passengers, but in some respects are, in fact, more 
comfortable than the boats making a specialty of passenger 
traffic. Usually their staterooms are well above the water 
line, so that port-holes can be kept open, except in the rough¬ 
est weather, and outside rooms are the rule. With no second 
cabin or steerage passengers, those of the first cabin feel 
greater liberty to utilize all the deck room for sport or com- 


38 


GOING ABROAD? 


fort. The odor of the cattle is not obnoxious; on the way 
back no live stock is carried. These boats have been 
modelled with an eye to being as steady as possible in order 
that the live stock may be transported safely. All are broad 
of beam, and many of them have bilge keels, in the nature 
of flanges at right angles to the side of the ship, which 
catch the water and check the roll. Usually they are heavily 
loaded, so that they are well down in the water, and this, 
too, steadies them. In two voyages on a boat of this class I 
can recall but one day when the steamer chairs had to be 
lashed, and any one who has crossed on the ‘'ocean grey¬ 
hounds” knows what that signifies. But do not infer that 
all freight boats are steady. On the contrary, among the 
worst of rollers are some of the old, small liners that have 
been relegated to the poorer class of business. It is the big, 
new freighters that are to be commended for comfort. In 
the matter of safety the fast beats have the advantage of 
lessening the days of exposure to the dangers of the sea, the 
disadvantage of being driven through fog at high speed. 

As to food on steamships, the chances are that the higher 
the rates the better the table. Very few, however, are the 
stewards who set what can justly be called a poor table. 

LIFE ON SHIPBOARD. 

Sociability is an important feature of life on shipboard. 
Up to within a few years on every trans-Atlantic steamer the 
distinctions of class and rank, wealth and birth, were for the 
while laid aside. But of late on the larger boats, the snob 
now and then sets the pace. This was inevitable when 
steamers became so large that t'heir passengers were not 
thrown in close contact with each other. It is significant 
that there is much less exclusiveness on the return trip, per¬ 
haps because a few months of travel will make socially timid 
people learn their own worth; perhaps because the larger 
part of our well-to-do folk are at heart sensible people, quick 
to observe, who take a lesson from genuine aristocracy as 
maintained across the water, and find out that gradations of 
wealth are not the most accurate tests of merit. Paradoxical 


HOW TO GO. 39 

as it may seem, the foreign aristocrat, c often the most 
democratic of men. 

But whether you choose one of the larger or one of the 
smaller boats, be sure you will find many delightful friend¬ 
ships. Anybody who goes to Europe for the ordinary reasons 
is pretty sure to have in his or her make-up something worth 
your respect and good-will. The mere fact that the desire 
to learn is the most common of all the causes that lead to 
foreign travel, of itself insures you companions of an intel¬ 
lectually desirable character. As a rule, they are brainy peo¬ 
ple, and if you enjoy contact with tultured intellects, no¬ 
where can you gratify that most laudable of tastes better 
than on shipboard. Not that they are all Solomons. And I 
doubt if even Sappho was enchanting when she was sea¬ 
sick. But the average of learning and geniality and sensi¬ 
bility is higher than elsewhere. 

Games are the chief recreation, and if you would be 
popular on shipboard, furbish up your game-knowledge. 
About the fifth day you will find the most staid and dignified 
of people eager to be entertained by amusements that on 
shore would be childish. Ennui fosters one diversion, how¬ 
ever, that is a little more than infantile, that of betting,—on 
the number of miles in a day’s run, on the number of the 
pilot boat first seen, on all sorts of things. Without the 
least desire to pose as a moralist, I may be pardoned for 
suggesting to the inexperienced that there are many ways 
to use money to advantage after you land, and that if you 
decline to risk it in pools and wagers on the steamer, nobody 
will think the less of you. To say “No” to the inevitable 
appeal for a charitable contribution, usually made under the 
guise of selling tickets to a concert for the benefit of sailors’ 
or life guards’ or somebody’s else widows and orphans, is a 
harder thing, and few have the courage to do it. Yet the 
scheme is an imposition and an outrage that steamboat com¬ 
panies would do well to prohibit. In every ship’s company 
there are some people who cannot afford such gifts, and 
who are grievously wounded by the necessity of appearing 
mean and stingy. If money is to be made at the concerts at 
all, it should be by passing a hat, and not by selling tickets. 


40 


GOING ABROAD? 


Blackmail is none the less blackmail when it is levied under 
the guise of charity. A little thing, you say, to make so ' 
much fuss over, but the little things sometimes make or mar 
the pleasure of an ocean voyage. 

CHOOSING A CABIN. 

To take a first cabin passage means that you pay for one 
berth in some stateroom in the centre of the boat, dine in 
the chief dining saloon, and can go anywhere on the boat. 

A second cabin ticket entitles you to a berth in a state¬ 
room aft, dining in the same part of the vessel, and being for¬ 
bidden to go forward of a certain line. 

Steerage passengers in the older boats are stacked in 
tiers of berths forward, and have no dining saloon, being 
served from the pantry and eating as best they can. On 
some of the new boats a whole deck is assigned to them, 
single men going forward, single women aft, and the centre 
being reserved for families. Some family rooms have but 
two berths, others th r ee or four, giving a privacy formerly 
unknown in steerage travel. Clean blankets are furnished 
on each voyage and dishes are supplied, but the passenger 
must wash his own. He furnishes sheets if he wants them, 
also towels and soap. Food, plain, but plentiful, is given, 
and any extras can be bought at a fair price from the 
stewards, 25 cents getting a good single meal from the 
saloon table, and $5 ensuring service therefrom three times 
a day during the voyage. It is possible without hardship to 
cross at steerage rates on one of these new boats, but not 
on the older boats, where the deck room is cramped, be¬ 
cause no going across a certain line is permitted; the berths 
are all in the bow, making sea-sickness almost inevitable 
under the most distressing conditions; and the passengers 
are herded like cattle with a promiscuity sure to revolt any 
one of refined instincts. To any man or woman brought up 
in a decent American home, the filth of the European-born 
poor met in the steerage is intolerable. 

Second cabin accommodations are clean, the food is 
good, and the company is by no means unendurable. In¬ 
deed, there is usually more jollity and good nature in the 


HOW TO GO. 


4i 

second cabin than in the first. But there is more motion to 
the stern of a vessel than to its waist, and the noise of the 
screw is more plainly heard, so that poor sailors are worse 
off there. The most objectionable thing about it, though, is 
that you are debarred from the privileges that people right 
within your sight are enjoying, the long promenade deck, 
the better dining room, the more elegant cabins and smok¬ 
ing room. But if you can swallow your pride, undoubtedly 
you will get more for your money in the second cabin than 
in the first. For a much smaller price you get the same 
transportation, berths just as comfortable, save for the pitch¬ 
ing and the screw, just as mucii food, though perhaps not 
in such variety. 

On some of the steamers that ply between New York 
and Mediterranean ports in winter, there is no distinction of 
first and second cabins, so far as privileges go. But, of 
course, the noise of the screw and the pitching are matters 
of necessity, not of privilege, and a poor sailor will find it 
worth while to pay the extra price for a berth amidships. 

Berths in outer rooms naturally command a higher price 
than those in inner rooms, but most people who have 
crossed many times will tell you they are not worth the dif¬ 
ference. Their only advantage comes from having the port¬ 
hole for more light and air. As you never use the state¬ 
room save for dressing and sleeping, or trying to sleep, and 
as the inner rooms have plenty of artificial light, the port¬ 
hole counts for very little in this regard. In summer in 
calm weather its fresh air is agreeable, but most of the time 
it can’t be left open with safety. When the sea is not high, 
the port-holes in the gangways are opened as easily and 
frequently as those in the outer staterooms, and they give 
the draught to the inner rooms in quantity enough to suffice 
almost anybody. At night, doors are hooked so as to be 
open a few inches, or only the portieres are drawn, and at 
the top of the partition there are holes, so that when the sea 
permits ventilation, there is usually enough of it. The very 
largest boats have forced draught ventilation. The rooms 
nearest the stairs are likely to get the most air. 

In selecting a stateroom, if possible keep away from the 


42 


GOING ABROAD? 


pantncs, or, at any rate, in front of them; away from the 
machinery, and away from the toilet rooms, though in the 
newer boats the plumbing is so good that it matters little 
if you are next a toilet room. The rattle of the machinery, 
however, cannot be wholly deadened, and the smell of food 
is nauseating to almost everybody, whether it comes from the 
pantry of a floating palace or the galley of a fishing smack. 

A ticket on an ocean steamer entitles the bearer to one 
berth, not to a stateroom, and unless you pay extra or the 
boat is not full, you will have to share your room with at 
least one other person, frequently with two others, for three- 
berth cabins are common. Let only the most imperative 
necessity compel you to go four in a room. On some plans 
numbers are placed to designate berths which are really 
couches, not ordinarily used unless a child is traveling with 
its parents. On this point it will be well to get information 
from the agent of whom you secure cabin plans. Of course, 
nobody else would be put in the same room with a husband 
and wife; in case no two-berth cabins were left, the couple 
would be separated, the husband being placed with other 
men and the wife with other women, but this would very 
rarely happen. 

There is no room for a full-sized trunk in a stateroom. 
A steamer trunk is almost a necessity for anybody but the 
hardy traveler of the male persuasion, who can suffice his 
wants with the contents of a grip-sack. The large trunks 
are ordinarily stowed where they can be reached at certain 
hours in the day, but it is much better to arrange things so 
that you will not have to go to them. 

SEASICKNESS. 

The great bane of the ocean voyage is seasickness. The 
infallible remedy for it is yet to be found. Its mysteries defy 
the doctors and delight the cranks. Let your friends know 
you are going abroad and you will be told of enough medi¬ 
cines to stock a hospital. The most opposite methods of diet 
will be advised, one man telling you to eat all you can, the 
next advising temporary starvation. A .eastplate of wrap¬ 
ping paper is a favorite absurdity. Only on one thing does 


43 


HOW TO GO. 

everybody agree,—fresh air. Stay on the deck as long as 
you can; after you have succumbed, force yourself to get 
out of your berth and on deck at the earliest moment your 
strength will permit. When you are nauseated, don’t resist 
Nature’s attempt to relieve you. Walk, walk, walk; and talk, 
talk, talk. Forget yourself if you can. The snobs who are 
exclusive on shipboard suffer the most from seasickness. 
Before you start, fortify yourself with the fact that pferhaps 
a quarter of mankind and an eighth of womankind are mer¬ 
cifully preserved from being sick at sea at all; not one per¬ 
son in ten stays sick more than a day or two; and not one 
in fifty suffers through the whole voyage—suffers seriously, 
I mean, for there are not a few who never really get their 
sea-legs. 

The notion that seasickness is of itself a benefit, is, on 
the face of the thing, absurd. No sort of sickness can be 
beneficial. So avoid it if you can and get over it as soon as 
you can. Let the diet be simple and ordinary for a few days 
before going aboard, and reduce the hard work sure to be 
piled into the days before sailing, so that your system may be 
in better condition. As the disease is doubtless largely, if 
not wholly, nervous in its nature, a strong exercise of will 
power can lessen its tortures, if not save you from them. 
That is probably the secret of the success of various remedies 
with various people,—they get faith, believe they will not be 
sick, and so keep themselves from being sick. If you go 
aboard with the certainty that you will be sick, begin to cod¬ 
dle yourself as soon as the boat leaves the dock, study your 
symptoms minutely, and go below the moment the vessel 
begins to rock, you can make yourself sick as easily as you 
can faint away if you have a tendency in that direction and 
try hard. 

For the person who is sick willy-nilly, it may be sug¬ 
gested that the starved system cannot rally quickly, and that 
some nourishment of the simplest kind should be taken; 
anything that aids and quiets the stomach, like tea, may 
prove helpful, taken sparingly, but avoid the dishes called 
^slops’’ in common parlance. Eschew soups for the first 
*wenty-four hours; content yourself with dry meat and 


44 


GOING ABROAD? 


hard biscuit. Champagne has alleviated the misery of many 
a woebegone passenger, but the sceptics declare the cracked 
ice the real cause. Eno’s fruit salts are said to be good. 
Jamaica ginger has been efficacious, and credit is also given 
to a few drops of camphor in water. A cold salt-water bath 
sometimes expedites recovery. 

Every vessel has a physician, whose aid is at the service 
of all passengers requiring it, without charge. But, as in 
public hospitals on shore, patients are expected to pay if they 
can afford it. If you give what your family physician would 
have charged for like services, you will not get far out of 
the way. 

FEES, MEALS, ETC. 

At the end of a trip every passenger on a trans-Atlantic 
steamer is supposed to give fees. It is an unwritten law, but 
as binding as the English constitution. The amount to be 
given always worries the novice, who dreads giving too 
little, and usually begrudges giving too much. If you give 
$2.50 to the man who waits on you at table, and a like 
amount to the man or woman who takes care of your state¬ 
room, he or she will be perfectly satisfied; ‘that much and 
no more is expected; if more is given, you are thought gen¬ 
erous, but no benefit accrues to you, and often but slight 
benefit to the recipient, for frequently the receipts of all the 
stewards are pooled at the end of the trip, and then divided 
equitably. So, in making a large gift, you but present so 
much money to the whole body of stewards. 

For one, I see no reason why a head steward should be 
feed. It is virtually a duty to fee the under stewards, be¬ 
cause their wages are small, in the expectation that they will 
receive enough from passengers to make their earnings rea¬ 
sonable. This is not the case with the head steward or any¬ 
body else on the ship. The men who frequent the smoking 
room usually make up a purse for the smoking room stew¬ 
ard, but that is wholly a matter of generosity. The deck 
steward usually receives a small fee from those who have 
frequently called upon him for services, and the passenger 
who is seasick usually calls upon him a good deal. When 
there is a band, it is customary to take up a collection for 


HOW TO GO. 


45 

its benefit, to which, doubtless, many contribute who would 
rather have paid to keep it quiet. 

All in all, probably the majority of passengers give be¬ 
tween five and ten dollars; married couples give between 
tiiem little more than single passengers. And more is given on 
the outward than on the homeward trip, after novices find that 
feeing is for all but the American a matter of business and 
not of kindness. Steward's fees are included in the passage 
money on a few boats, but your steward would probably feel 
unhappy if he didn’t get at least a dollar extra. 

Seats at table are allotted by the head steward imme¬ 
diately after the boat leaves the dock, and if you have any 
choice, you should interview him as soon as you get on 
board. If you have acquaintances on the passenger list, see 
the steward before the boat starts and give him in writing 
the names of the people who are friends. If you feel sure 
you will be seasick, induce him, if you can, to allot you a 
seat amidships; near the door is desirable, if that is not also 
near the pantry; and it is well to be on the same side of the 
boat as your room, and as near it as possible. On some of 
the smaller boats, when all berths are taken, it is necessary 
to have “first table” and second table” at noon and night. 
Usually you can have your choice. There is little reason 
for exercising it. Perhaps the first table people are hurried 
somewhat, and the second table people are likely to find 
the linen less fresh. Food and service are the same, of 
course. 

“Full dress” is not expected, and, indeed, would be 
thought ridiculous by most people. As a rule, passengers 
wear the same outer garments from one end of the trip to 
the other, morning, afternoon and evening. Negligee shirts 
are the rule with men. 

Wines are to be had at prices reasonable to one going 
from America, and dear to one returning from Europe. Pay¬ 
ment is made before landing; you need not be afraid that the 
purser will forget to present his bill, accompanied by the slips 
you have s : gned every time you have ordered anything from 
the wine card. 

Time on shipboard is marked by the ship’s bell. One 


GOING ABROAD? 


46 

stroke of the tongue means that it is 12.30, 4.30, or 8.30. 
Two strokes: 1, 5, or 9. Three, 1.30, 5-30, or 9.30; and so 
on, up to “eight bells,” as it is called, which may be 4, 8 or 
12 o’clock. The ship’s time is changed daily, and if you rely 
on your watch without changing each day, you may find 
yourself earlier or later at breakfast than you think for. 
The distance traveled each day is computed at noon, and 
posted conspicuously. 

The use of the bath rooms is free, but the steward ex- 
.pects to be feed, like about everybody else who does any¬ 
thing for you, from the time you leave home till you get 
back. The barber charges for his services as on shore. 

Deck chairs are not provided by the steamboat com¬ 
panies. If you care to take your own “steamer chair,” you 
are at liberty so to do, but there is much less bother in 
hiring a chair from the company that makes a business of 
letting them. The price for the trip is usually a dollar, 
sometimes fifty cents. If you pay it when you get your ticket 
you will find the chair suitably labelled and waiting for you 
when the boat starts; usually there are enough extra ones 
aboard to make it possible for you to hire one from the deck 
steward, but it will be safer to make sure of that in ad¬ 
vance. It would be very poor economy to try to get along 
without one. 

On some boats the position assigned to the chairs on 
the first day is kept through the trip, and on such boats it is 
desirable to secure your location as soon a§ you get on 
board, the matter being arranged with the deck steward. 
On others the chairs remain where they are placed each 
morning, whether occupied or not, for it is not good form 
to move a chair not your own. At night the chairs are 
folded and stacked, and the early risers have their pick of 
positions. The crafty passenger will put his chair as near 
the middle of the boat as he can get it, away from the 
draught of a gangway, from the pantry ventilators, and from 
the smoking room door, if that opens on the promenade 
deck. And may he be forever seasick who defies the rule 
and puts his chair next the rail, where people want to walk! 


HOW TO GO. 


47 


First cabin passengers ordinarily are anowea free 20 
cubic feet of space in the hold for baggage (something more 
than enough for two trunks of average size), paying 25 
cts. a cubic foot for extra 9pace. Second cabin passengers 
get 15 feet, steerage passengers 10 feet. Once late in the 
voyage the baggage room is opened and passengers can 
reach their trunks if they wish. On the freight boats the 
trunks are sometimes left in the passage-way, where they can 
always be reached. One passenger found this a great con¬ 
venience when her steamer trunk proved half an inch too 
high to go under the berth. 

Before the boat leaves the dock, keep your eye on your 
hand luggage. In the throng of visitors who come to say 
good-bye, thieves can mingle without arousing suspicion, 
and after the boat has started, losses are discovered too late 
to do anything about it. 

Friends are more kind than considerate when they send 
flowers to departing tourists. For a few hours the gift is 
delightful, but when the qualms of sea-sickness begin, the 
flowers must leave the stateroom, and by the time one can 
enjoy them again they are usually past enjoyment. Of course 
the woman who is not sea-sick can get as much pleasure 
out of a bouquet on ship as she can anywhere else; very 
likely it is more pleasurable there. But most women, alas! 
will detest a rose on the first morning out. So one who 
dares look a gift-horse in the mouth, would better suggest 
that parting tokens of good-will might better take the form 
of candy or cakes or olives or, best of all, fruit. Indeed a 
basket of fruit is as 'Solacing a thing as can be carried on an 
ocean trip. 

If you have had the forethought to bring along a 
stamped envelope or a postal card, and care to send anybody 
a line at the last minute, you can send it back by the tugboat 
that goes down the harbor with the steamer, or by the pilot. 
This hint may be particularly useful to anybody starting 
from Montreal. On the return voyage the St. Lawrence 
boats pick up the pilot at the mouth of the river, and letters 
addressed as the officials of the line may advise, will prob¬ 
ably reach passengers there. Thus your friends can get 


48 


GOING ABROAD? 


early news to you if you have so directed, and you may be 
sure that letters will never be more welcome. 

By the way, speaking of the St. Lawrence suggests that 
it should not be overlooked in considering the port from 
which to sail. The St. Lawrence boats must go down or up 
the river between Montreal and Quebec in the daytime. So 
they leave Montreal in the early morning and touch at Que¬ 
bec in the afternoon for such passengers as may want to 
take them there; and on returning, if they reach Quebec too 
late to go up to Montreal that day, they lie over, thus on 
most trips giving passengers a chance to see the city. The 
St. Lawrence lines have the advantage of a shorter ocean 
passage than any others, there being three days of the trip 
on the river or gulf; and as their course lies so far north, in 
summer it is reasonably sure to be cool, while more south¬ 
erly lines often have unpleasantly warm days at that season. 
On the other hand, the farther north the route, the more 
fogs and icebergs and the more chance of meeting their an¬ 
noyances or dangers. 

Coming back to the subject of letters, I may say that 
the provident passenger who desires to mail letters as soon 
as he lands will have provided himself in advance with post¬ 
age stamps of the country in which he is to disembark; they 
can usually be bought without trouble in a money-changer’s 
office before going on board. The purser may have a few, 
but usually not enough 'to supply the demand. As one may 
land in Liverpool or elsewhere with hardly time to catch the 
outgoing mails, or may want to send letters ashore at 
Queenstown or Gibraltar, the precaution may be worth 
while. 

The prudent man or woman who expects to be sea-sick 
will arrange his or her effects in the stateroom before the 
boat gets out. of the harbor. 

Distances at sea are measured in nautical miles of 6080 
feet, which correspond with the length of one-sixtieth of a 
degree of a great circle of the earth in latitude 48 degs. Thus 
the nautical mile is about 800 feet longer than the statute 
or land mile. The speed of a ship at sea is measured in 
knots, which are not themselves distances, but are measures 


HOW TO GO. 


49 


of speed, and therefore, though a knot is in length the same 
as a nautical mile, the term should not be used as synony¬ 
mous with mile. You may say that a boat has a speed of 20 
knots an hour, but don’t say that the distance across the 
ocean is 3000 knots. It may be convenient to remember that 
the fast boats average about 500 miles a day in good weather, 
the slow boats about 300 miles. When the boat travels with 
the sun, of course it scores more miles a day than when it 
is bound eastward. A fathom is 6 feet. 

Steamship companies seldom if ever advertise the ex¬ 
pected sailing time from dock to dock. Commonly the an¬ 
nounced records are made from lighthouse to lighthouse, 
and this may be a very different thing from the time actually 
taken in getting across, for there are many delays in crossing 
bars and in getting up or down the harbor. Furthermore, 
advertised passage times are good-^weather runs with all 
conditions favorable. Therefore it is rash to make appoint¬ 
ments or lay plans in the expectation that “a six-day boat” 
or “a nine-day boat” will put you ashore just six or nine 
days after you started. It may, and then again it may not. 
At least 24 hours is none too small a margin of safety in 
calculations. 

A cheap chart of the North Atlantic will be found an 
entertaining study on the way over, for the latitude and 
longitude are posted every noon, enabling one to trace the 
ship’s course from day to day if he cares to keep a record 
by himself. 

People who are amicably inclined and know when to 
stop will do their fellow-passengers a service by putting 
some music in their luggage, where it can be easily reached. 
But the pianist who strums within sound of sea-sick people 
will not get their blessings. 

All the large boats have libraries that are put at the ser¬ 
vice of passengers, but like most small libraries they abound 
in things you ought to read but won’t. A steward usually 
is put in charge of giving out the books. 

Speaking of books suggests to me the subject of dogs, 
in view of the fact that in Massachusetts and perhaps in 
some other States the public libraries get the dog tax. 


50 


GOING ABROAD? 


Whether ship libraries are so sustained I don’t know, but 
perhaps they are, for dogs must pay their passage. It may 
cost from $10 to $25, according to the size and value of 
the dog. The rule is that dogs, cats and monkeys must 
travel in cages, but I doubt if all dogs are so treated, for 
there are dogs and dogs. 

WORKING A PASSAGE. 

Young men with more health and strength than money, 
more grit than fastidiousness, can most economically make 
the European trip by crossing as stock tenders. Boats 
carrying hive stock leave all our larger ports from Montreal 
to Galveston. Passage over and back is given to the cattle¬ 
men. Formerly they were paid from $10 to $40 for the trip, 
but now, except in the winter season, men are plenty who 
are glad to go w r ith only passage and food as the equivalent. 
The men are shipped either at the cattle yards or at some 
seaman’s employment office. Sometimes one may get pas¬ 
sage on a horse boat and then he will be with a little better 
class of men and have less work, but he must pay for his 
return passage, $12.50 being the usual charge, to be arranged 
with the manager of the horse department of the transporta¬ 
tion company before starting. Cattlemen who do not want 
to come back on the return voyage of the boat in which they 
cross, must make a special arrangement to that effect with 
the officials of the company. 

On the outward voyage the youth who goes on a cattle 
boat pays his way with interest. He rises at 4 in the morn¬ 
ing and works hard at feeding and watering the cattle till 8, 
when he gets his breakfast of “scouse,” a sort of diluted 
hash, with what passes for coffee. More work in the fore¬ 
noon and then dinner of “salt horse” and potatoes. Then 
lugging more hay and water to the cattle and then supper of 
“thin, bitter oatmeal and tea or coffee, as you may elect to 
call it,” to use the words of one college student who de¬ 
scribed his experience to me. Most of the fellows are then 
tired enough to climb into their bunks, but some go up on 
the spar deck if the weather is fine. A few are told off to 


HOW TO GO. 


5i 

watch the cattle, for the steers are not to be allowed to lie 
down during the entire voyage. 

In rough weather, with hatches battened and the iron 
decks made slippery by the water spilled in carrying it to 
the cattle, the weak and sick cattlemen cursed and driven to 
their tasks wish they never had been born. Taken altogether, 
it is an experience that few lads care to repeat, but young 
men of the college age long for “experiences,” and this is 
not one of the sort that brings any permanent ill effects. A 
stout, rugged youth who knows from work on the farm or 
in the factory what manual labor means, or who has gone 
through the training for a college team, and who is not 
dainty in his tastes, can do the thing without more than a 
brief spell of misery, tempered by the satisfaction of achiev¬ 
ing a journey that might otherwise be impossible. 

The surroundings are not altogether painful. Except 
on passenger boats the cattlemen have practically the free¬ 
dom of the ship in their off-hours, being allowed to go any¬ 
where except to the galleys, although the extreme forward 
and aft, spar decks are conventionally allotted to them. 
They sleep in single bunks with straw mattresses that are 
said to be filled with fresh straw each trip, the bags holding 
the straw being steamed. My informant avers that the 
steam ought to be very hot to do its perfect work! On the 
return trip there is no w'ork to be done, and the cattlemen 
loaf to their heart’s content. To eke out the ship’s victuals, 
they carry on board such delicacies as their purses may per¬ 
mit, and if it is a passenger boat the steward will not be 
averse to turning a penny by furnishing food from the sa¬ 
loon pantry. On the horse boats the men are called upon to 
work scarcely more than three hours a day. 

Western lads who contemplate a trip under these con¬ 
ditions may be glad to know that they can reach the sea¬ 
board very cheaply by traveling on stock trains. It is the 
custom of the railroads to allow a pass for one man with 
each car of stock, and it is not hard to get hold of a pass 
from a Western State to Chicago for a dollar. A similar 
pass from Chicago to New York may cost $6, for which one 
can get transportation in a passenger car attached to the 


52 


GOING ABROAD? 


fast stock express. No service is required of persons thus 
shipped with stock, the trainmen doing the work. 

A party of college men whom I saw make the trip, rode 
their bicycles to the boat, and had them put in the hold un¬ 
crated. Mounting their wheels at the Liverpool dock as 
soon as the boat landed, they started on a tour that need not 
have cost them all told $50 for a two months’ absence from 
the States, during which time they could see all the things in 
Great Britain and on the Continent that excursion tourists 
see, with a great deal of the most interesting part that the 
usual excursionist never sees. 


CHAPTER IV. 

HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 

Railway cars abroad are divided by partitions parallel 
with the end of the car, into compartments. Ordinarily these 
are entered by doors in the sides of the car, though now and 
then, as in some parts of Switzerland, you find a car entered 
from the end and with an aisle passing through the partitions 
by means of doors. On a few through trains you may find 
cars with an aisle running the length of the car, along one 
side, from which you step through doors into the compart¬ 
ments. In England they are slowly making some approach 
to our American cars. 

Every train has doors labelled “I.,” which denotes a 
first-class compartment. Save in England there are always 
other doors labelled “II.,” which denotes second-class. And 
save on some of the express trains of the Continent, there 
are still others labelled “HI.,” for third-class. In Prussia 
there are also fourth-class compartments. 

Some of the English roads have done away with second- 
class, others have reduced their second-class fares nearly to 
the third-class level. Furthermore, the third-class accommo¬ 
dations in England vary very much. It is, therefore, hard 
to generalize on the topic in its relations to travel in Great 
Britain, but with some reservations it may be assumed that 
my remarks on second-class compartments apply also to the 
third-class compartments of the through trains, not the local 
trains, of English roads that have no second-class. 

The only important difference between a first and second- 
class compartment is that the first-class has ordinarily eight 
seats to a compartment, four looking front and four back,— 
the second-class has ordinarily ten, one more on each side. 
When all the seats are taken this is a slight disadvantage 
against the second-class, but that very rarely happens, not 
once in fifty rides. Indeed, there are seldom more than four 


53 


54 


GOING ABROAD? 


people in a first or second-class compartment,—or perhaps 
I would better say it is generally possible to find a com¬ 
partment, if you wish, that has not more than two or three 
occupants. In several months’ journeying on the Continent, 
two of us had second-class compartments to ourselves more 
than two-thirds of the time, and never tipped the guard. 
That, however, might not be the case on the main lines of 
travel in July and August. 

As far as train motion goes, there is not the slightest 
difference between the compartments. Often the same car 
will have compartments of all three classes, and of course 
each gets the jar and jolt alike. Our Pullmans ride more 
easily than what we call day-coaches, but that is not the case 
abroad. 

In cleanliness some travelers declare the first-class com¬ 
partments superior to the second-class, but there is really 
no difference in Germany, little in England and France, 
usually little in Italy. 

One Englishman told me jocosely that after much trav¬ 
eling in Germany, the only difference he could find between 
first and second-class was that one was upholstered in green 
and the other in red. 

In cost the proportions, averaged from fares in many 
countries, are, except for the English lines that have low¬ 
ered their second-class fares: First-class, $i; second-class, 
$0.73; third-class, $0.52. In other words, speaking in round 
numbers, first-class costs a third more than second; third- 
class, a third less than second, and half as much as first. 

Why, then, have the English any justification for their 
proverb that “only Americans and fools travel first-class,” 
or, as they sometimes put it more brutally, “only dogs and 
Americans,” with the dogs first, mind you! 

Simply because there is more false pride in democratic 
America than in aristocratic Europe. 

The head of the Cambrian railroad, a line where the 
third-class corresponds to second-class on the Continent, 
stated not long ago that ten years back the number of pas¬ 
sengers carried in the first and second-class carriages 
amounted to about 10 per cent, of the entire transportation 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 


55 

of his railway system, but that there had been a steady fall¬ 
ing- off, and in the previous year the number of first and 
second-class passengers was about 2 per cent of the whole. 
That shows what Englishmen think of the accommodations 
mainly chosen by Americans and fools. In England, re¬ 
member, third-class corresponds to second-class on the Con¬ 
tinent, and is equivalent to our day coach accommoda.ions. 

If first-class meant the comfort and luxury of our Pull¬ 
man cars, the circumstances would be far different, but that 
is not so. A few through trains have various brands of what 
in their ignorance they deem luxury, but an American sniffs 
at their quality and is outraged by their enormous cost. 
Only the very wealthy ever think of paying for them. 

There are, indeed, but two logical reasons Why an 
American should travel first rather than second. One is 
that the second-class compartments are the more likely to 
be crowded. Yet I have been in crowded compartments of 
both classes, and as I said above, have easily found solitude 
the greater part of the time when traveling second-class. 
The other reason is akin to the first,—that in a first-class 
compartment you are sure of the best of company if you 
have any, while in the second-class compartment you may 
have to pass hours with unpleasant people. But as the 
peasants always go third-class, and as the smoking compart¬ 
ments naturally take the men traveling alone, this reason 
seldom has force. You have to run the risk of riding with 
children possessed of lungs, but even members of the nobility 
have been known to have children, and have been known to 
journey with them. 

Englishmen traveling on the Continent almost invariably 
go second-class, and what is good enough for an English 
squire or an English clergyman and his family, ought to be 
good enough for most Americans. 

Nearly all Americans who buy their railroad tickets in 
advance, who arrange for circular tours or go with personally 
conducted parties, buy first-class rail tickets. As they get 
no experience of second-class travel, mistrust their advice. 
The wisest thing you can do is to wait till you get there and 
have seen and tried it, or else to do what you will be told 


56 


GOING ABROAD? 


to do by nine out of ten Americans who have made any 
stay abroad,—travel second-class. 

In Great Britain, on what the Englishman deems a long 
journey, the third-class compartments of express trains are 
likely to be found satisfactory, for such trains are little used 
by people who would be objectionable traveling companions. 
Indeed, one may like his company in the third-class better 
than in the second, since it is not uncommon for the very 
rich to have their valets and maids travel second-. A guard 
at Liverpool advised me to go to London third rather than 
second. It should be remembered, however, that the third- 
class compartments of through trains starting from Liver¬ 
pool or any other port right after the arrival of a big 
steamer carrying many steerage passengers, are very likely 
to be crowded with them. 

On local trains in Great Britain the bulk of the third- 
class travel is of the mixed variety, with boors and bores 
numerous. So for any short journey I should advise the 
well-to-do tourist to take second-class where it exists, or 
otherwise first-class: and I would counsel any tourist who 
can afford it to shun the miserable, dirty third-class com¬ 
partments of the lines running south from London. 

Third-class compartments are often not found on Con¬ 
tinental express trains, and where -they are offered, an extra 
charge for the fast travel is customary. The peasants, who 
must of course travel as cheaply as possible, generally use 
the accommodation trains, so that tourists who need to 
economize can without much risk of annoyance go third- 
class on the fast trains. In Germany and Switzerland the 
third-class accommodations are exceptionally good, and on 
the “Government lines” in France they are very fair, but on 
most of the French lines and generally elsewhere on the 
Continent the third-class compartments are dirty, with 
wooden benches uncushioned, and used almost wholly by the 
peasantry and working people. Many an American who 
must husband his resources uses them altogether and comes 
home none the worse for it, but a woman traveling alone 
should have strong reasons to induce her »to risk their dis¬ 
comforts. Small parties can resort to them better than per- 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 57 

sons journeying singly, for a group of people by tipping the 
guard can usually keep a compartment to themselves where 
it would be hard for one or two to accomplish it. The soli¬ 
tary traveler by the use of the tip can usually secure that 
none but respectable people shall be admitted into the com¬ 
partment. 

Only under most unusual circumstances will anyone be 
obliged to stand, for the holder of a ticket is entitled to a 
seat, and if there are more passengers than seats extra cars 
are added. If all the seats are occupied in a compartment 
of the class for which you have bought your ticket, you are 
entitled to a seat in a compartment of the next higher grade 
if it has a seat empty. So if you have a second-class ticket 
and can find no vacant second-class seat, don’t get into a 
third-class compartment, but take tirst-class without com¬ 
punction. An exception to the rule about standing is the 
Prussian fourt'h-class compartment, which no tourist should 
use except as a last resort. As the peasants travel fourth- 
class in Prussia, third-class is likely to be less objectionable 
there than elsewhere so far as companionship goes, and is 
frequently us^d by the upper classes for even short journeys. 

Entire compartments can be reserved in advance, but on 
some roads the privilege is restricted to those of the first- 
class. The regulations vary, but as a rule tickets must be 
bought to the number of two less than there are seats in the 
compartment. For example, to reserve a io-seat compart¬ 
ment of the second-class on a “Government line” in France, 
eight tickets must be bought. To reserve a first-class com¬ 
partment on a main line express train of the London & 
North Western, four tickets must be taken, and the station 
master at point of departure must be notified in writing two 
hours in advance at a terminal station, a day in advance at 
an intermediate station. Most travelers will take their 
chances on securing the desired result by tipping the guard. 

There are always compartments reserved for women, 
into which no man may penetrate; even if such a compart¬ 
ment be empty, 'the guard will eject the man who takes a 
seat there. 


5* 


GOING ABROAD? 


SLEEPING, DINING, AND SMOKING. 

Sleeping cars are now found on almost all the through 
lines of Great Britain and the Continent. In Great Britain 
not many journeys are long enough to give occasion for 
their use. The charge there is not much higher than with 
us, a specimen pricfc being $1.25 from London to Glasgow, 
in addition to the ordinary first-class fare. On many of the 
Continental routes the charge is exorbitant. For instance, 
the price from Paris to Marseilles, a 13-hour run, is $9 in 
addition to the first-class fare, and that <is typical of the 
French rates. German rates are not so had; the fi r st-class 
charge from Cologne to Berlin, for example, about nine 
hours, is $2.50. German roads have both first and second- 
class sleeping compartments, with little or no difference ex¬ 
cept in price, the second-class rate averaging a quarter less 
than first-class. The 'berths in European sleeping cars are 
even more uncomfortable than ours, and their cost makes it 
safe for the well person not pressed for time to lay down 
the rule never to travel by night if he can possibly help it. 
Yet Dr. Linn says that for invalids he prefers night travel. 
He says that it is better for a person in ill-health to get over 
a journey than to ride all day, perhaps on the sunny side of 
a carriage, and arrive tired at night to stop over in a strange 
hotel. His experience is that one is more tired out by stopping 
over one night on the road than by going through. The 
best way of all for invalids is to take a short day-journey 
and stay from three days to a week at each place. 

Distances are seldom so long that night travel cannot be 
avoided, though here and there comes a stretch, as between 
Paris and Switzerland, where there is no place at which i-t 
is worth while to stop over for sight-seeing, and the day 
trains do not run conveniently, so that a night journey is 
almost a necessity. Under such conditions most Europeans 
get a corner in an ordinary compartmen-t, wrap themselves 
in a traveling rug, and doze as best they can. Pillows and 
rugs can be hired at many of the large stations for ten cents 
or so apiece. 

Dining cars have come into use abroad much more 
slowly than with us, because journeys there average so much 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 


59 


shorter than ours. In England the system has of late years 
been greatly improved, and the trunk lines no*w make a 
point of their dining facilities in their advertising. Dining 
cars are run for each class of passengers. The prices on 
the London & North Western may serve as examples: Table 
d’hote breakfast in a first-class car, 75 cts.; second and third- 
class, 62 cts. Luncheon, first-class, 62 cts.; second and third, 
50 cts. Table d’hote dinner, first-class, 87 cts.; second and 
third, 62 cts. Refreshments are also served a la carte at buffet 
charges as by daily bill of fare. Restaurant and dining cars 
are also now run on many of the principal day express trains 
of the Continent. Through trains on long journeys usually 
make stops long enough for meals, and the station restau¬ 
rants have somewhat better food and service than most of 
ours, but there are very few attractive railroad restaurants 
anywhere in the world, and many a wise traveler prefers to 
take something with him in the car. Europeans recognize 
the body and all its functions more frankly than do Ameri¬ 
cans, and to eat away from a table is not held to be in such 
bad taste there as many of our people seem to think it. A 
hamper goes to the races with every party, and every excur¬ 
sion becomes a picnic. As good water is not always to be 
had quickly, those who are not averse to wine will see that a 
bottle of it is provided in advance. In Germany beer is 
offered at the car windows at nearly every stopping place,— 
sometimes milk. Sandwiches are usually to be procured. 

For those to whom economy is an object, it may not be 
useless to suggest that when a hotel keeper puts up a 
luncheon, it is commonly poor in quality and rich in price. 
Half the money if spent at bake-shops and fruit-stands will 
give much more palatable results. 

The English roads have made a notable advance over 
ours in developing a basket luncheon system. They inform 
their patrons that a basket luncheon will be put on board at 
any one of several stations. The price is 75 cts. for a 
basket properly fitted, and containing half a chicken, with 
ham or tongue or a portion of cold beef, salad, ice, bread, 
cheese, butter, etc., with either half a bottle of claret, bur¬ 
gundy or hock, two glasses of sherry, or a bottle of ale or 


6o 


GOING ABROAD? 


stout; price without beer or wine, 62 cts. If a hot luncheon 
is desired at the same price, it can be secured by notifying 
the guard at a preceding stopping place. 

All trains have compartments for smokers, and a woman 
has no business to enter them unless smoking is not objec¬ 
tionable to her. Whether, if a woman docs enter, the occu¬ 
pants should cease smoking, is a question of ethics every man 
must answer for himself. Most Europeans would not think 
of stopping. Some Americans will stop any way, and few will 
keep on with unmixed pleasure, even though the woman says 
she does not object. 

Other first and second-class compartments have notices 
to the effect that smoking is forbidden, but the prohibition is 
a dead letter unless a woman is in the compartment or un¬ 
less some man objects. In Spain, where smoking is univer¬ 
sal, a woman who dislikes it would better travel first-class 
always. Once in a second-class compartment there, before 
daylight, six Spanish traveling companions were smoking 
cigarettes, and not a window open: yet the solitary Spanish 
woman in the car seemed not to mind it an atom. On an¬ 
other occasion, in a first-class compartment, a stylishly 
dressed Spaniard entered, smoking a cigarette, and finding 
an American woman there, asked in t)he most courteous of 
Castilian manners if she objected to his continuing it. She 
could not speak Spanish, but as smoking was not objection¬ 
able to her, tried to assent by gestures. When she put her 
fingers to her lips, he misinterpreted her meaning, and, tak¬ 
ing out his cigarette case, offered her a cigarette, and seemed 
surprised that she did not accept. 

RAIL DETAIL. 

“Railroad” is the commoner term in America; “railway” 
in England. The English “guard” performs the duties of 
our “conductor” and “brakeman”; Che English “driver” 
those of our “engineer”; the English “pointsman” those of 
our “switchtender.” We speak of the “cars,” they of the 
“train.” A “depot” in England is a freight depot; the build¬ 
ing for passengers is a “station,” or if at the end of the line 
it may be referred to as the “terminus.” Our “baggage car” 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 

is their “van”: our “freight train” their “goods train”; our 
accommodation train” their “Parliamentary train.” They 
refer to what we call a “round-trip ticket” as a “return”; and 
they call a ticket-office a “booking office.” The rails are to 
us a “track”; to them a “line.” They talk of “box” and 
“bag” where we talk of “trunk” and “valise.” 

Bradshaw” is the English synonym for time-table, just 
as “Baedeker” or “Murray” is for guide-book. The “Con¬ 
tinental Bradshaw” contains detailed time-tables that may be 
relied upon, besides a great deal of useful information, and 
.'t is well worth while trying to find room for it in your bag. 
As with us, local time-tables in pamphlet form are sold for 
a pittance, and are sometimes very handy. It is not wise to 
trust the hotel porters too implicitly in the matter of trains. 
They are familiar with the times of the through trains most 
commonly used, but for local trains and all unusual trips it 
is safer to hunt up the facts in the time-tables. 

The cars have no stoves, and the European has not yet 
dreamed of heating his cars by steam from the locomotive. 
In winter flattened cylinders of tin or copper, filled with hot 
water or some chemical compound that retains heat, are laid 
on the floors of the compartments and mitigate the cold, 
without really warming the car. A rug is an inevitable 
feature of every Englishman’s traveling outfit. An American 
may well take along with him the rug he has used on the 
steamer, employing it as a bundle covering when not needed 
for warmth, but from June to October he can safely dispense 
with it. 

At any time of year, however, a rug or shawl may prove 
a convenience for night travel. A clever way of arranging 
it is to fasten one corner to the rack above, sit on the oppo¬ 
site corner, and fold the other two corners around the body. 
This makes a sort of upright hammock that supports the 
back, lessens the vibration, and prevents the head of a dozing 
traveler from dropping on a neighbor’s shoulder. 

A few cars have toilet conveniences, but they are often 
accessible only from the outside of the car, and so cannot 
be entered when the train is in motion. The stops at impor¬ 
tant stations, however, are usually long enough to serve. In 


62 


GOING ABROAD? 


this matter European cities are far ahead of those of Amer¬ 
ica, but European railroads are far behind. 

The average speed, on the Continent at least, is less than 
in the States, but in England a few trains have speeds ex¬ 
celling the fastest on most of our roads. Usually tickets 
for the through trains are io per cent, higher than those for 
accommodation trains, but the time saved is worth ten times 
the extra cost. What we should call the “limited” train 
from Rome to Naples takes 5 1-2 hours; the express, 61-4; 
and the accommodation, 11 hours. Distance, 162 miles. 

Trains are more nearly on time than with us. Once in 
Germany I took an all-day ride, with seven changes of cars, 
for it was “cross country,” and the connections were so 
close that nowhere was there time enough for a luncheon, 
and yet not a train was late in arriving or starting. 

Trains in Great Britain, Belgium and Holland run on 
Greenwich (West Europe) time; in Switzerland, Italy, Den¬ 
mark, Sweden, Germany, Austria and Servia on mid- 
European time, one hour faster than Greenwich; in Rouma- 
nia, Bulgaria and part of Turkey on east-European time, two 
hours faster than Greenwich; in France the outside station 
clocks show Paris time, but the inside clocks, by which the 
trains are worked, are five minutes slower. 

“Catching a train” is a habit almost unknown abroad; 
even the American seldom indulges in it. Without a protest 
you get in the way of reaching the station from fifteen min- 
•utes to half an hour ahead of time. And there are good 
reasons for it. The earlier you get there, the better seat you 
may find; and your ignorance of the language makes it 
desirable to allow for possible delays in getting your ticket 
and attending to your luggage. On the Continent you will 
frequently see notices that luggage will not be received with¬ 
in 15 (or 10) minutes before the train starts, but the rule is 
not rigidly observed. 

Unless by special permission, nobody is allowed on the 
platform without a ticket. An official stands at the door of 
the waiting room to see that you have it. This door is 
closed before the train starts. If by hook or crook you got 
through after the wheels began to revolve, and jumped on 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 


63 


the train while it was in motion, at the next station you 
would, in Germany, at least, be ordered off, taken before a 
magistrate, and fined. 

Trains pass each other on the left, so that where there 
are two tracks, as is ordinarily the case, the passenger should 
seek the platform that will bring his destination to the left 
as he faces the track. At the large stations there is a bridge 
over the tracks or a subway under them, and it is strenuously 
prohibited to walk across the road-bed. 

TRUNKS AND LUGGAGE. 

On British railways there is no checking system corre¬ 
sponding to ours. A porter takes the trunk, pastes a label 
on it, and in due time deposits it in the van. If the passen¬ 
ger does not see that the luggage is properly labelled and 
put in the right van, the railways are said not to be responsi¬ 
ble if it goes astray. On arriving at his destination, the 
passenger goes to the van, picks out his luggage and dis¬ 
poses of it as he pleases. The American thinks this a shift¬ 
less, dangerous way of doing business, but as a matter of 
fact things are rarely lost, and one can get his luggage on a 
cab and start away from the station in a third of the time it 
takes at any of the big city stations of America. 

On the Continent what is virtually a checking system is 
in use, though one gets a slip of paper instead of a brass or 
card tag, and the process is referred to as “registering” in¬ 
stead of “checking.” 

The leading English roads have recently adopted a sort 
of registration system, whereby for a fee of 12 cents a pack¬ 
age they undertake to collect luggage at the residence and 
deliver it at any point within the usual cartage distance 
from the station of destination. The passenger ticket must 
be bought before the luggage is collected, and the luggage 
should be given into custody a day before the possenger in¬ 
tends to journey, if he desires to make sure that it will ar¬ 
rive as soon as he will. The luggage can be sent “Till called 
for,” in which case it will be held at the cloak room of the 
station of destination, with a left-luggage charge of two cents 
a day, if not removed within three days. By the way, it may 


64 


GOING ABROAD? 


be useful to bear in mind that nearly all the stations abroad 
have parcel or cloak rooms where hand luggage may be left 
while one sees the town; if not, a porter will be glad to take 
it in charge for a trivial fee. 

Luggage can be registered through from America to 
almost any point in Europe; from London to most of the 
cities on the Continent, but passengers for Italy can register 
it only to the frontier, where it must be again registered; 
there is usually a free allowance of 56 pounds on luggage 
registered from London, whatever the customary allowance 
on the lines over which it is to pass. 

Every railway station in Europe is provided with por¬ 
ters, whose business it is to carry luggage to and from the 
trains. One can go through Europe without ever touching 
his luggage, except to pack and unpack it. When the porter 
opens the car door, you are of course at liberty to accept 
his services or not. He is usually importunate, but if you 
shake your 'head positively and keep a grip on your things, 
he will hurry off to*find some more willing victim. If you 
let him take your things, he expects a fee of what would be 
four cents in our money. As in the case of all fees, there is 
not the slightest reason why you should give more than the 
usual thing. The English roads print an announcement that 
their servants “are strictly prohibited from receiving gratu¬ 
ities, and passengers are urgently requested to abstain from 
giving them money; and any servant of the company de¬ 
tected accepting a gratuity will be liable to fine or dismissal.” 
Nobody ever heard of the rule’s being enforced, and every¬ 
body gives just the same, but the British traveler complains 
bitterly of the American folly of giving six-pences or shill¬ 
ings instead of “tuppence.” 

For taking a trunk or box from the cab or bus to the 
weighing room, there is on the Continent usually a schedule 
price of five cents that goes to the head porter; if you care 
to give something extra to the man who carries it, that is 
your own lookout. You do not have to pay anybody for 
putting your trunk on or off the cars, but you may be very 
sure that if the baggage smasiher knew to whom the trunk 
belonged, he, too, would expect a fee. 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 


65 

You are allowed to take with you free as much luggage 
as you can get into the compartment. (There is a weight 
limit on hand luggage, but I never knew it enforced.) As 
to trunks, the custom in England is much the same as with 
us,—no questions asked unless your trunks are heavy and 
many. In the rare cases when the rule is enforced, it per¬ 
mits 112 pounds free to first-class passengers, 80 to second- 
class, and 60 to third-class. On the Continent perhaps three- 
quarters of the roads carry no trunks free. In France one 
is allowed 66 pounds on each ticket (only 55 pounds when 
going to another country), so that two persons traveling 
with one trunk get along without much extra cost. The 
excess costs about two-thirds of a cent a mile for each 100 
pounds. Spanish roads make the same allowance. In 
Italy, with no weight free, the cost is about seven-tenths of 
a cent a mile for each hundred pounds, so thait a very heavy 
trunk, or two light trunks, may cost as much as a third- 
class passenger ticket. In Germany the custom varies, 
Prussian roads allowing 66 pounds, South German roads 
charging for all. On the Swiss, Belgian, Dutch and Alsatian 
lines, one must pay for every pound of luggage put on the 
van. In Austria and Denmark there is an allowance of 55 
pounds, in Russia of 36 pounds. 

If you are averse to having railway labels or the adver¬ 
tising labels of hotels pasted on your luggage, provide a 
lag and tell the railway or hotel porter, as the case may be, 
that the label is to be put on it. 

In most countries of Europe trunks are safe enough 
when out of your sight, but that is not the case in Italy. 
The train men there seem to have got into the unpleasant 
habit of spending their time between stations in exploring 
the baggage. The last trunk robbery is a staple subject of 
conversation at Italian hotel tables. Even the Queen had 
two valuable dresses stolen while going from Venice to 
Monza. One lady lost a precious bracelet, set with large 
Indian diamonds, and when the authorities were informed of 
it, they only expressed poli'te regret thait anybody should 
have had “so little delicacy” as to st^eal her jewels. The 
only protection is in cording the trunk, besides locking it 


66 


GOING ABROAD? 


(for they do not hesitate to break locks), and in sealing the 
knots in the cords; a leaden seal is preferable, but if this is 
not easily procured, sealing wax may suffice; usually the 
porter at the hotel will attend to the sealing when asked. 
Instances are known, however, where seals have been broken 
and replaced, the trunks rifled, and no satisfaction obtained 
from the authorities, so that the safest course is to carry 
jewels on your person, so securely stowed away that pick¬ 
pockets cannot get at them. These gentlemen are plentiful 
in Italy, and elsewhere in Europe. Augustus J. Hare, the 
guide-book writer, while entering a railway carriage in Flor¬ 
ence not long ago, lost by their dexterity a pocket-book 
containing nearly $500, and at last accounts, though the men 
had been arrested, he had not recovered his money. 

FARES AND TICKETS. 

The cost of railway tickets on the Continent is somewhat 
greater than in our Eastern States, but smaller than in our 
West and South. On one journey I kept a record of every 
ticket bought while traveling 2700 miles second-class by 
short stages, through eight countries, and found I had aver¬ 
aged to pay $0.0266 a mile. On the same journey first-class 
fares would have averaged $0.0364 a mile; third-class, $0,189. 
On any one road, the price per mile is the same whether you 
travel five miles, fifty, or five hundred, except in the few re¬ 
gions where the zone system of rates prevails, and the ordi¬ 
nary travel does not find those. So there is no economy of 
money in buying through tickets. Unless you are sure that 
you will take at a stretch the whole of any given journey, 
buy your ticket only to the place where you may w r ant to 
stop off. 

Fares in Great Britain are on the whole somewhat higher 
than those of the Continent. The average of a dozen trips 
aggregating 787 miles figures out very close to 4 cents for 
first-class; 21-2 for second; 2 cents for third. 

The price of tickets is printed on the time-tables hung tip 
in the stations; and in the time-table books that are issued 
for each road or region, and sold at a small price on all the 
railway news-stands. They are handy things to have. 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 67 

These books also print the lists of excursion tickets 
offered by the various roads,—for what are called “circular 
tours.” They are numerous, attractive, and cheap, saving 
the traveler from 10 to 50 per cent, if he cah match his plans 
to them. These tickets are what Cook and Son sell. They 
have their advantages and their disadvantages. The agent 
does not sell you the ticket any cheaper than you can buy 
it from the railroad, but he talks English and can explain 
and discuss routes with you. 

The tourists’ agencies now operating in Europe are hon¬ 
orably conducted, and are of great help to a large part of the 
traveling public. Their representatives are almost invariably 
courteous gentlemen, glad to be of service to any English- 
speaking person, whether a patron or not. As it is for their 
interest that all the inconveniences and uncertainties of travel 
shall be lessened a>s far as possible. I am sure they will have 
no criticism to make on a frank and clear statement of what 
they can and cannot do in this matter of railway tickets, as 
in whatever other matters may come up. 

It may be further said, then, that an excursion ticket is 
of advantage to any one with definite plan not likely to be 
altered. It is desirable for any one who knows little or 
nothing of the language of the country through which he is 
to travel. It avoids the chance of loss through the mis¬ 
takes (sometimes intentional) of railway station ticket sellers. 
It lessens the amount of money to be carried,and the loss in 
changing money from one currency to another. In some 
cases it secures the services of honest interpreters at railway 
stations. 

On the other hand: It restricts you to a route chosen 
in advance, leaving no chance to act on the advice of tourists 
you may meet on the road. Where you might have had your 
choice of rail or boat if buying tickets as you went along, 
it compels a mode of travel that the weather may not suit. 
Once started, it may or may not permit option between first, 
second and third-class. If it takes you from one country into 
another, it is sold at the face value of the currency of the 
country into which you are going, and not at its depreciated 
value. For instance, a circular tour ticket bought at Paris 


68 


GOING ABROAD? 


to cover part of Italy, or a through ticket from Paris to 
Rome, will be sold on the assumption thait the Italian unit, 
the lira, is worth the same as the French unit, the franc, but 
the lira is of paper and of depreciated value, so that io per 
cent, or so is lost in paying for it on the franc basis. Like¬ 
wise -the Spanish peseta is depreciated, and a circular tour 
ticket for Southern Spain, bought in Gibraltar and paid for 
on the basis of the pound sterling, costs much more than 
the same fares paid for at the Spanish ticket offices, by 
reason of what can be made in exchanging English pounds 
for Spanish pesetas. 

The conditions attached to the use of circular tour tickets 
must be thoroughly understood and literally followed. The 
ticket must be stamped at every place where you stop off. If 
you forget this or deviate at all from the route or try to 
reverse the direction, or omit part of the route without 
proper stamping, you will get into trouble. 

Two classes of tickets are offered, one for routes ar¬ 
ranged by the railway company, the other arranged to suit 
the wants of the individual traveler—ready-made and custom- 
made, as it were. The ready-made variety can be had at 
little or no notice, but it may take two days to put the cus¬ 
tom-made together. The ready-made are usually the less 
hampered by conditions and restrictions but are seldom 
issued to third-class passengers. The custom-made are 
usually issued for all three classes. A time limit is attached, 
and sometimes the tickets allow only hand luggage. 

Round trip or return tickets at a reduced price are the 
common thing abroad, so the tourist in making trips ‘‘out 
and back” would better always inquire the price of both the 
single and return tickets. 

Switzerland, where the railways are under government 
control, has introduced a novel form of excursion ticket, 
something after the style of the annual pass that too many 
Americans carry. The Swiss plan is to sell a ticket good for 
a specified number of days on any line in the country, ex¬ 
cept the inclined railways that run up the mountain sides. 
The buyer’s photograph must be attached to the ticket. It 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 69 

fneans a considerable saving to anyone who plans to go 
about the country much in a limited time. 

Italy has imposed a tax on all railway tickets that in* 
creases the published price by about 10 per cent. As this is 
not printed on the ticket, the uninformed traveler may think 
that the ticket-seller has given him the wrong change. The 
ticket-seller is supposed to write the correct price on the 
back of the ticket, but this is not always done. The tax may 
not be permanent, and perhaps it will have been removed 
before this is read. 

Children travel free up to the age of 3 years through¬ 
out the greater part of the Continent; in Austria and 
Switzerland, up to 2 years. In Norway and Sweden half 
price is charged between 3 and 12; in Austria and Switzer¬ 
land, between 2 and 10. In Germany two children under 10 
travel on one ticket: a single child pays third-class fare to 
travel second; second-class to travel first. In Belgium 
three-quarters fare is charged for children from 3 to 8; in 
France, half fare from 3 to 7. In Great Britain it is half fare 
from 3 to 12 inclusive. When you are buying a ticket for a 
child, it is always advisable to let the ticket-seller see the 
child. 

In Scandinavia the odd custom prevails of letting a man 
and his wife, father and son, or teacher and pupil, travel for 
a fare and a half. 


BY BOAT. 

American travelers making the customary tours are sel¬ 
dom brought in contact with the fact that regular lines of 
coasting steamers are exceedingly numerous abroad. Yet 
occasionally it may be desirable to utilize them, either for 
the sake of economy or from motives of comfort if sea- 
travel is agreeable. For instance, one who has gone north 
from London may want to reach Holland or Belgium or 
France more cheaply than by traversing England again in 
the cars, or as easily as a steamboat permits. Lists of all 
these coast lines may be found in Cook’s Continental Time' 
Table, sold for a shilling at any of Cook’s offices. 

The boat service on the west coast of Scotland is par- 


7 o 


GOING ABROAD? 


ticularly excellent. Steamers reach the Isle of Man from 
every direction. Excursions are advertised all through the 
summer from Liverpool down the Welsh coast, and others 
may be found all along the Channel and from the resorts on 
the East coast. 

American tourists ordinarily reach Scandinavian ports 
by crossing the North Sea from England. A steamer leaves 
Hull every Thursday about noon for Bergen, Aalesund, 
Christiansand, Drontheim (Trondhjem), and Stavanger. 
Every Friday for Christiania and Copenhagen; every Satur 
day for Copenhagen, Gothenburg, Hango, Stockholm and 
St. Petersburg. From Newcastle a steamer leaves for Ber¬ 
gen every Thursday at 6 p. m., calling at Stavanger. For 
Drontheim (Trond'hjem) a steamer leaves every Tuesday at 
( p. m., calling at Bergen, Aalesund, Christiansand, etc. 
These boats from Newcastle also run in connection with 
Scandinavian coast steamship lines, which latter touch at the 
principal points on the Norwegian coast. From Grimsby 
a steamer leaves every Wednesday midnight for Gothenburg 
(40 hours) and every Tues-day evening for Malmo and Hel- 
singborg (60 hours), also every Monday and Thursday even¬ 
ing for Esbjerg (30 hours). From Harwich a steamer leaves 
for Esbjerg every Monday, Thursday and Saturday ir con¬ 
nection with the 7.15 p. m. Great Eastern Railway train from 
London. There is also a sailing every Friday and Saturday 
from Granton (Scotland) to Scandinavian ports, and from 
Grangemouth (Scotland) every Wednesday for Norwegian 
ports; and from Leith (Scotland) there is a sailing every 
Thursday to Scandinavian ports, and to Continental ports 
every Wednesday and Saturday. 

First-class tickets come much nearer being necessary on 
European steamboats than on European railways. As a rule 
the best accommodations on the boats are none too good. 
The best known boats, those crossing the English Channel, 
would not be tolerated on lines of equal importance in Amer¬ 
ica; they draw only six or seven feet of water, which is one 
reason why they are so sure to make passengers sea-sick 
when the water is the least bit rough. But don’t think that 
inevitable. I have crossed the channel when from one side 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 7 i 

to the other we could not see anything that properly could 
be called a wave. Then again, on a bright afternoon, with 
the wind far from a gale, I 'have seen waves drench passen¬ 
gers on the upper deck. The woman whose gown may be 
spoiled "by spray should wear a waterproof or else get a seat 
in one of the deck shelters if she does not care to go below 
and the water is rough. I noticed that the English tourist 
experienced in crossing the Channel took pains, as soon as he 
got on board, to pre-empt one of these shelter seats by put¬ 
ting his hand luggage in it. Many apprehensive -women lie 
down as soon as they board a Channel steamer. 

So much is the Channel crossing dreaded that the quick¬ 
est passage, from Dover to Calais, has always been preferred, 
and the fares from London to Paris are half as much again 
as by the Newhaven-Dieppe route, which has about three 
times as much water to cross. In pleasant summer weather, 
'however, the traveler not uncommonly susceptible to sea¬ 
sickness may well save his money by taking the longer route, 
particularly if he enjoys boat travel. It may be, indeed, that 
he will run less risk of nausea, for the tides run swiftest and 
the Channel is most choppy where it is most narrow. 

We found the day crossing from Southampton to the 
Channel Islands as pleasant as any boat trip abroad, but 
we were fortunate in weather, there being less motion than 
one frequently finds between Boston and Provincetown and 
Portland in mid-summer. I wonder that more of the leisure¬ 
ly tourists do not reach Paris by this route, which is but a 
trifle more expensive in the matter of fares and touches many 
points superior in interest to those on the routes more 
patronized. First there is the Isle of Wight, reached from 
Southampton in an hour, an epitome of rural England, with 
charming drives and attractive shores. Then there are the 
islands of Guernsey and Jersey, which the hasty traveler can 
“do” in a day each, with another day for the still more en¬ 
joyable island of Sark if he has time for it. From Jersey he 
may reach the mainland at Granville, a typical bathing re¬ 
sort, and thence go to Avranches, perched on a gigantic 
hill; or he may reach the Continent at St. Malo, a city 
crowded on a fortified rock, hemmed in by lofty ramparts, 


7 2 


GOING ABROAD? 


quaint and mediaeval. A few miles away is Caneale, where 
one thinks the fishermen and the fisherwomen have just 
stepped out of their frames in a gallery of modern art. Mid¬ 
way Caneale and Avranches is Mont St. Michel, to my mind 
the most picturesque spot in Europe. Direct, it is but a little 
farther from Paris than is Calais, and a slight detour will let 
one reach the capital by way of Vitre, which I would rank 
next to Nuremburg in the list of curious Continental towns 
of my acquaintance. Bending the route still farther/ south 
may easily bring in the valley of the Loire, the garden of 
France, with its famous chateaux. 

But my enthusiasm for Brittany and Touraine makes me 
wander from the topic. To return to the more prosaic de¬ 
tails of boat travel, let me suggest that when buying tickets 
from London to any place on the Continent, you can com¬ 
bine second-class rail tickets with first-class boat tickets, and 
it is wise so to do. In crossing to Holland or Belgium by 
night, the fare entitles you to a berth without extra charge, 
but staterooms are not sold as with us. If you ask for one 
in.time, it will be reserved for you without charge, and I 
remember the London agent surprised me by telegraphing 
for it at the expense of the company, not mine. 

On river and lake boats, before you get your ticket, 
wait to see w*hat parts of the boat are allotted to first and 
second-class passengers, respectively. For an all-day ride, 
such as that on the Rhine, the freedom of the wthole boat 
given by a first-class ticket is in any event desirable. On 
the Lake of Thun the second-class accommodations are for 
sight-seeing and pleasure much superior to those allotted 
the first-class passengers, who usually crowd forward into 
the second-class seats, in spite of their tickets; but on the 
Lake of Brienz, only a mile or so away, the second-class 
accommodations are miserable. On Lake Geneva it costs 
$1.50 to go from end to end of the lake first-ctass; 60 cents 
second-class; and in pleasant weather the second-class seats 
are better, being ahead of the smoke-stack and giving the 
finer views. Imagine an American steamboat company 
charging two and a half times as much to sit behind the 
smoke-stack as in front of it! Yet there are Americans, and 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 73 

plenty of them, who when abroad will pay the extra money 
for the worse places, simply because of the label. 

Where there are both rail and boat routes, as on the 
Rhine and Lake Geneva, if time is limited it is usually un¬ 
wise to buy tickets in advance, as a wet day may make the 
cars more desirable, or a hot day may make the boat the 
more comfortable. Or you may want to accompany friends 
who have arranged to go by the route other than that by 
which your ticket would take you. Often tickets are issued 
that are good by either cars or boat, but boat fares are 
cheaper, and it is just as well to wait till you get there. 

The meals served on European boats are usually toler¬ 
able and not excessive in cost. On the long North Cape 
trip some delicacies may well be carried along to give variety 
to the bill of fare. 

A boat excursion on the Thames is coming to be a 
popular feature of an American outing in England. After 
a taste of it, I cannot praise it too warmly. To have taken 
the whole trip from Oxford down to Hampton would have 
been preferable, but two days sufficed to give us the best part 
of it. Two of us hired a boat at Windsor for two days for 
$2.50, after some haggling; the prices are flexible. We 
rowed up past Maidenhead to Cookham and back. Had we 
come out from London by train, Maidenhead would have 
been the best place to get the boat. We went through several 
locks, crowded with a variety of pleasure craft, and we saw 
house boats innumerable, and some of the most beautiful 
estates in England. Nowhere can the outsider get a better 
idea or a nearer view of that interesting genus, the English 
aristocrat. After taking it, he will conclude that there are 
prettier girls, tastier gowns and jollier people than he had 
supposed dwelt in the land of the Briton. 

Boats to make the trip to London can be hired at Ox¬ 
ford for from $7.30 for a canoe or whiff (plenty large enough 
for two people) up to $30 for a large four-oared shallop. 
This covers the use of the boat for a week and the taking it 
back from London. Steam or electric launches can be hired 
almost anywhere along the river for from $10 a day up. A 
small passenger steamer makes the trip from Oxford to 


74 


GOING ABROAD? 


Kingston, 92 miles, in two days, staying for the night at 
Henley; also there are regular boats from Richmond to 
Chertsey and back, and frequent excursion steamers. 

Punting is the favorite thing with the people who tarry 
along the river. The punt is a flat-bottomed boat propelled 
by poles, for the river is shallow enough for this. Anyone 
familiar with canoeing on the streams of American forests 
could at once take to punting, but most tourists are likely 
to find oars good enough. They will certainly suffice to 
put a blister or two on hands out of practice. Villages 
abound along the river, with excellent hotels on the bank, 
and others that are comfortable enough and less expensive 
somewhat back from the shore. The tourist may send his 
trunks on from Oxford to London, and wiith his hand lug¬ 
gage and traveling garb find himself sufficiently equipped 
for this river trip, though of course he will be more com¬ 
fortable in boating flannels. Women will feel less conspicu¬ 
ous if they can wear something more dainty than the travel¬ 
ing gown, for they will find their English sisters stylishly 
dressed when on the river. The tourist need row no farther 
down the river than he chooses, sending the boat back from 
any village; if he tires of rowing, boys in plenty can be 
hired to pull a tow-line. 

The canoeing enthusiast can find on the Continent 
longer and more adventurous trips than on the Thames. 
Let him take steamer to Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburg, or 
Bremen, send his canoe by fast freight to the railway station 
nearest the head waters of the stream he selects, and then 
launch his craft toward the Black Sea, the Baltic, the Adri¬ 
atic, or the Mediterranean, as his taste may lie. He need 
take with him outside his personal equipment nothing save 
what appertains to his canoe, for he can get on the spot 
cooking utensils and all food supplies. I have heard a canoe 
trip down the Rhine particularly commended. 

BY VEHICLE. 

Steam has driven the coach and the diligence off nearly 
all the main routes of travel, but in Norway, Scotland and 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 75 

Switzerland several of the most delightful and almost indis¬ 
pensable trips are still to be made behind horses. The roads 
of Norway are justly famous. They are built by the national 
government and are the chief means of communication, as the 
country is too mountainous for many railroads. The posting 
rates are fixed by the government and one need have no fear 
of overcharging on the part of the drivers. The inns are 
fairly comfortable and the charges are low, so that while the 
tourist agency tickets may be a convenience, they are by no 
means a necessity. The tourist agency people are allowed to 
charge no more than the government prices for carriages, 
and when they get their profits by taking a percentage from 
the payments to the drivers on the presentation of the car¬ 
riage tickets, the drivers are not happy. Therefore, the man 
who pays as he goes may get the more cheerful treatment. 
But as usual the tickets are more satisfactory to the man who 
prefers to put his reliance on a powerful tourist organization 
rather than to invite individual responsibilities. 

In the Scotch Highlands there is keen competition for 
places on the box seats of the coaches, so that on reaching a 
place where the iourney is to be continued by coach, one of 
the party should hurry to secure the coveted places. Re¬ 
member that the first coach has the least dust. The driver 
expects a gratuity of from 12 to 36 cents, according to the 
length of the drive. 

The Swiss coaching system is under government con¬ 
trol and well managed. Each diligence contains a coupe, or 
first-class compartment just behind the driver, with seats for 
three persons; the interieur, or second-class compartment, 
with from four to six seats, in the body of the vehicle; and 
the banquette, an elevated seat at the rear, with room for 
two. Places in the coupe and the banquette cost a third 
more than in the interieur, and are well worth it. On ordi¬ 
nary routes interieur places cost about 5 cents a mile; on the 
Alpine passes, about 8 cents; coupe or banquette places, a 
little more than six cents a mile on ordinary routes, between 
9 and 10 cents a mile in the passes. None of the routes are 
very long, though, as the speed is slow, it takes from half a 
da y to a day to get from hotel to hotel, 


76 


GOING ABROAD? 


Places can be secured in advance by writing or tele¬ 
graphing to the Bureau des Postes at the place where the 
diligence starts, and on all popular routes, if a coupe or ban¬ 
quette place is wanted, the earlier this is done, the better. At 
all important stations, the diligence people are required to 
furnish transportation, so that if the diligence is full, supple 
mentary vehicles are provided. Sometimes the passenger 
who has not written ahead, really gets a better place in the 
supplementary carriage, but that is a matter of luck. Where 
tourist company vehicles are used, as occasionally in Switzer¬ 
land, the coaches are simply large wagons, and it is of no 
use to ask for places in advance; the first man to reach 
the wagon gets the best seat. 

A carriage can be hired at the Bureau des Postes, the 
charge in Switzerland being about 16 cents a mile for each 
horse with a carriage holding from two to five persons, besides 
a small booking fee. Private posting is prohibited, but 
private carriages can be had for the Italian passes, and they 
are far more comfortable. Nor are they always costly. After 
taking a party over they must get back, and their owners 
would rather carry somebody at a low price than return 
empty. Often you can get a return carriage at the same price 
diligence places would cost, — sometimes at less cost, if you 
bargain shrewdly. (Don’t forget that everybody dickers 
everywhere in Europe.) Here is another place where tickets 
bought in advance sometimes cause regret. Coach seats 
should not be bought either in America or England, as only 
interieur tickets can be secured in either country, and nobody 
will ride in the interieurs if he can afford to go in coupe or 
banquette, — not so much because they are less comfortable 
(though they are apt to be crowded), as because you miss 
many of the views. 

If money is of slight account, no more delightful trip 
can be made than one of many days’ duration, by private car¬ 
riage, through the Swiss valleys and passes. In England the 
arranging of coaching tours has become a matter of business, 
and it may be worth while to examine the descriptive circu¬ 
lars about them. The Is*le of Wight is admirably seen by 
coach. 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD.- 


77 


In the cities the cab and omnibus play a much more im¬ 
portant part than on this side of the water. Cab hire is 
ridiculously cheap on the Continent, and all well-to-do people, 
natives as well as foreigners, make habitual use of the cab. 
The prescribed rates are to be found on a card in every 
vehicle, and, therefore, no advance bargain is necessary so 
long as you keep inside the city limits; but plan an excursion 
into the country, and a bargain in advance should always 
be made. The charge is almost invariably according to the 
nature of the vehicle or the distance traveled,—not in pro¬ 
portion to the number of occupants. Two people, and often 
three, can ride as cheap as one person, but since four or more 
people require a larger cab or two horses, there is a larger fare. 
It is the invariable custom to fee the driver,—five cents being 
the average tip on short drives. In Naples, where the regu¬ 
lations let the drivers charge only 14 cents to go anywhere in 
the city limits, a lira (20 cents) would usually be given to the 
driver, but if you gave him only 16 to 18 cents, he would not 
seriously demur. Throughout most of Europe you may 
reckon on giving 20 to 30 cents for a cab fare, with four or 
five cents as pourboire. 

Extra cautious people make a memorandum of the number 
of a cab as they enter it, and pursue the same practice in the 
matter of railway guards, and wherever opportunity presents 
for iotting down a number that may aid to the recovery of 
any lost article or the settlement of any dispute. The bother 
of it will keep most people from getting into the habit, and 
yet it is not wholly useless. I was told of one amusing case 
where it saved serious annoyance. The owner of a set of false 
teeth had occasion to remove them from his mouth and lay 
them on the cushion of a railway compartment, where they 
remained when he left the car. Fortunately, the head of the 
party had taken down a number and was able to telegraph for 
the teeth, recovering them in a few hours. It seems absurd 
that anybody should leave false teeth strewn about in a place 
of that sort, but people will do such things. 

All hotels of consequence, except in the largest cities, 
have omnibuses at the railway stations, and omnibuses go 
from the hotels to connect with the leading trains. Two 


78 


GOING ABROAD? 


people can always go between hotel and station in a cab by 
themselves as cheap as they can go in the bus, often cheaper, 
—with more comfort and speed, as well as a valuable saving 
of time, for the bus usually starts from the hotel half an hour 
earlier than the tourist taking a cab would have to leave. So 
none but the timid, helpless, or solitary traveler will ever take 
the hotel bus. 

Hand luggage,—anything you can get inside the cab or 
bus,—goes free. Trunks are charged for, a small amount for 
each. If you let the polite and accommodating driver take 
your bag or bundle on his seat, you will have his urbanity 
explained at the end of the drive by an extra charge for it. 
As usual, always keep hold of the handle of your luggage, if 
you don’t care to pay somebody for touching it. But if 
you object to lugging things, or haven’t the strength, or 
don’t mind having little outlays count up, you may always 
save your arms or your dignity by having somebody else do 
the carrying. 

Cab drivers are obliged to take trunks,—to a reasonable 
number, of course--but are not expected either to load or 
unload them. I remember an embarrassing situation in Paris 
when on our ai riving at a pension nobo-dy chanced to be 
there equal to handling a trunk. The ordinance forbade the 
driver to leave his cab, and he was too surly to break the rule 
anyway. There was nothing to be done except hail the first 
passing workman, and for carrying the trunk up one flight 
he demanded as much as it had cost to get it from the station, 
and several times over. Again the trunk was anathematized. 

For ordinary excursions, where there is no printed tariff 
prescribed by the authorities, Baedeker usually tells correctly 
the amount you should pay. Once in a while, though, you 
must make a bargain without help or advice from anybody. 
In such a case, don’t ask or take the opinion of a hotel em¬ 
ployee. He has his countryman’s interests at heart more than 
yours, and will help him to fleece you. Make up your mind 
what would be a fair price for the service, offer, and stick 
to it. 

In case of a dispute with a cab driver or in any public 
conveyance, go at once to the nearest police station and 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 


79 


lodge a complaint. If you neglect this, the other party to the 
dispute may get there first and make charges that will cause 
you serious annoyance before your side of the case is heard. 
One instance is told of a traveler who had her jewels attached 
because she failed to proceed at once to explain to the author¬ 
ities some dispute in which she was involved. If a cabman 
gets disagreeable, tell him to drive you to the police station; 
if he knows he is in the wrong, that will settle it; he will not 
take you there. 

Europe has nothing corresponding to our livery stables, 
where you can hire a horse and carriage alone, without a 
driver. The tourist is always driven ; he never drives. It is 
not easy to hire a saddle horse. 

The automobile became common in Europe earlier than 
with us, and facilities for enjoying its use are to be found 
everywhere. It is a rare village — at any rate in Central 
Europe — where “essence” is not to be procured. Electric 
recharging stations are to be found in the small German towns 
and many of those of Sweden and Denmark, but only in the 
larger cities of France and Belgium. Machines can be hired 
by the day or hour in all the large cities. The Department 
of Commerce and Labor at Washington issues a summary 
of foreign automobile regulations. In the larger countries 
there are Automobile Clubs which it is worth while to join, 
for benefits like those of the bicycle clubs, road maps, lists 
of hotels with special rates, repair shops, supply houses, etc. 

ON FOOT. 

The conditions of pedestrian travel have not changed 
materially since Bayard Taylor wrote “Views A-Foot,” and 
I can quote from no better authority. To see Europe thus, 
he says, requires little preparation, if the traveler is willing to 
forego some of the refinements of living to which he may 
have been accustomed, for the sake of the new and interesting 
fields of observation that will be opened to him. He must 
be content to sleep on hard beds, and partake of coarse 
fare; to undergo rudeness at times from the officers of the 
police and the porters of palaces and galleries; or to travel 
for hours in rain and storm without finding shelter. The 


8o 


GOING ABROAD? 


knapsack will at first be heavy on the shoulders, the feet will 
be sore and the limbs weary with the day’s walk, and some¬ 
times the spirit will begin to Hag under the general fatigue of 
body. This, however, soon passes over. In a week’s time, if 
the pedestrian does not attempt too much on setting out, his 
limbs are stronger and his gait more firm and vigorous; he 
lies down at night with a feeling of refreshing res’:, sleeps wi h 
a soundness undisturbed by a single dream, that seems almost 
like death, if he has been accustomed to restless nights; and 
rises invigorated in heart and frame for the next day’s jour¬ 
ney. The coarse black bread of the peasant inns, with cheese 
no less coarse, and a huge jug of milk or the nourishing beer 
of Germany, have a relish to his keen appetite which excites 
his own astonishment. And if he is willing to regard all in¬ 
civility and attempts at imposition as valuable lessons in the 
study of human nature, and to keep his temper and cheerful¬ 
ness in any situation which may try him, he is prepared to 
walk through the whole of Europe, with more real pleasure 
to himself, and far more profit, than if he journeyed in style 
and enjoyed the constant services of couriers and valets de 
place. 

Should his means become unusually scant, he will find it 
possible to travel on an amazingly small pittance, and with 
more actual bodily comfort than would seem possible to one 
who has not tried it. Mr. Tavlor says he was more than 
once obliged to walk a number of days in succession on less 
than a franc a day, and found that the only drawback to h's 
enjoyment was the fear he might be without relief when this 
allowance should be exhausted. He made $500 last for two 
years, including the cost of coming and going. Such a tour 
can certainly be made for an average of a dollar a day, with¬ 
out any heroic self-sacrifice. But Mr. Taylor declared it his 
belief, just as T shall maintain in the matter of housekeeping 
abroad, that with few exceptions, throughout Europe, where 
a traveler enjoys the same comfort and abundance as in 
America, he must pay the same prices. The principal differ¬ 
ence is that he only pays for what he gets, so that, if he be 
content with the necessities of life, the expense is in propor¬ 
tion. 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 81 

It is best to take no more clothing than is absolutely re¬ 
quired. as the traveler will not desire to carry more than 
fifteen pounds on his back, knapsack included. A single suit 
of good dark cloth, with a supply of linen, will be amply 
sufficient. The strong linen blouse, confined by a leather 
belt, will protect it from the dust, and when this is thrown 
aside on entering a city, the traveler makes a very respec¬ 
table appearance. The slouched hat of finely woven felt is a 
delightful covering to the head, serving at the same time as 
umbrella or night-cap, traveling dress or visiting costume. 
No one should neglect a good cane, which, besides its feeling 
of companionship, is equal to from three to five miles a day. 
In the Alps the tall staves, pointed with iron (Alpenstocks), 
can be bought for a franc apiece, and are of great assistance 
in crossing ice-fields, or sustaining the weight of the body in 
descending steep and difficult places. An umbrella is incon¬ 
venient, unless it is short and may be strapped on the knap¬ 
sack, but even then, an ample cape of oiled silk or rubber 
cloth is far preferable. A small bottle of the best Cognac is 
useful for bathing the feet morning and evening during the 
first week or two, or as long as they continue tender with the 
exercise. It is also very strengthening and refreshing to use 
as an external stimulant when the body is unusually weary 
with a long day’s walking. 

Lee Meriwether, in his book, “A Tramp Trip—How to 
See Europe on Fifty Cents a Day,” argues for the rubber 
coat. It is serviceable, he says, “not only againsit rain, but 
also cold. The ground may be damp, but spread out your 
rubber coat, lay your head on your knapsack, and you are in¬ 
dependent of chill and dampness. I have often slept thus on 
the roadside, even diming a rain. The rubber coat should 
be bought in America. I had to pay in Naples four dollars 
and a half for an indifferent article that in New York would 
not have cost three dollars.” 

Mr. Meriwether thinks that absolutely indispensable ar¬ 
ticles for the pedestrian, besides the rubber coat, are two 
suits of underclothing, an extra flannel shirt, a pocket drink¬ 
ing-cup, a compass and a map of the country to be visited. 
New articles can always be bought when needed. 


8 2 


GOING ABROAD? 


“Expense,” says Mr. Meriwether, “depends on the will- 
ingness of the pedestrian to economize. A four and a half 
months’ trip through Italy need not cost above a hundred 
dollars, including steamship passage from and to New York. 
The price of a round trip ticket, steerage, New York to 
Naples and back, is fifty dollars; time consumed in making 
the round trip is six weeks. On the remaining fifty dollars 
the pedestrian can, as I have shown, live very comfortably for 
a hundred days.” He shows that without any walking, save 
in the cities, a year’s trip, embracing every land from 
Gibraltar to the Bosporus, can be made for $320. 

The college man whom I have quoted in the matter of 
crossing on a cattle steamer, saw much of England a-foot. 

He tells rue that it was easy by inquiry to learn of long 
stretches of dull country to avoid. Rooms of the Y. M. C. A. 
are in about every good-sized town, and members of that 
organization would often go to great pains to serve him in 
matters of information. Non-conformist pastors, too, were 
very kind in this regard, and shop-keepers were helpful. But 
he advises the pedestrian to avoid all sorts of officials, aver¬ 
ring particularly that English policemen are deaf, dumb and 
blind. I think he could not have meant to include those of 
London, who are proverbially courteous and efficient. 

As to the living, he says that anybody who survives the 
food of a cattle steamer will not complain, and that the 
meanest inn chamber will not make him regret the fore¬ 
castle and its occupants. At inns where the hucksters and 
traveling laborers resort he was able to secure a bed for 
f'-om 8 to 24 cents, the usual thing being 12 cents. In these 
one can find pots, pans and dishes, with which to prepare 
food. Many a time he and his companions left a pot contain¬ 
ing pieces of mutton or beef, pot herbs, potatoes and turnips 
simmering on the back of some big range while they tramped 
the surrounding country. Nobody ever interfered with it. In 
fact, it might boil over and not a Briton would touch it. In 
such inns one may buy a cent’s worth of tea, and for two 
cents two substantial slices of bread. The tea will often be 
surprisingly good. You brew it in one of the pots hanging 
behind the range. One gets the use of knives, forks and 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD. 83 

spoons by making a deposit, usually of four cents. In most 
butcher shops one can get for from 6 to 12 cents a pound of 
meat that has been cut from roasts, “trimmers,” while steak's 
and chops will soar above you at from 20 to 40 cents a pound. 

By the way, he says, “get the shopkeeper’s lingo or he will 
annex your finances very rapidly.” Salt pickled herring 
called bloaters may be toasted before the open stove front 
till they simmer; they are most toothsome. “One will avoid 
the sweet cakes, meat pasties, etc., that are displayed. They 
are all very bad. Should one not know how to do the 
simplest cooking or feel too lazy to attempt it, cold meats 
are usually on sale; a six, eight, or twelve-cent plate of ham 
or roast, scaled as to quantity, can usually be had. 

In London the traveler who would live at least possible 
cost may resort, for instance, to the Victoria, in Whitechapel 
Road, East End, an establishment something like the Mills 
hotels in New York. There the price of beds is from 8 to 12 
cents a night. Though most of the guests are dirty, the place 
itself is surprisingly clean. In the basement are set tubs, and 
large ranges with pans, pots, etc., for the use of the guests. 
Food may be bought in the place, and fish and meat stalls 
are plentiful in the neighborhood. Near this house, which is 
the best of its kind, are several others at like prices. Both in 
London and in the country towns these places are preferable 
to boarding houses for the man who must make every cent 
do its most. 

“Make friends to the extent of your ability,” says my 
friend. “John Bull won’t intrude. Joke him and humor him 
and he will do anything he can to ’elp ’is Hamerican cousing 
along.” 

Alvan F. Sanborn, in writing of “Cheap Tramping in 
Switzerland,” says that the Swiss landlord knows just two 
kinds of people in this big, round world,—natives and rich 
tourists, the latter being created expressly for the benefit of 
the former. “Under these circumstances the only hope of 
cheap comfort lies in being classed as a native, and to that 
end the campaign must be directed. In all villages of any 
size there are one or more public resorts, social centres for 
the burghers and feeding-places for the neighboring peasants, 


84 


GOING ABROAD? 


called cafe-restaurants, institutions strictly local and aborigi¬ 
nal, quite or almost tourist-inviolate. Their meals cost less 
than half the hotel price, and, if somewhat less elaborate, are 
equally abundant and toothsome, and rather better adapted to 
the vigorous exertions of mountain pedestrianism. Whether a 
bargain is made or not, a luncheon will ordinarily be supplied 
for a franc, and a dinner for one franc fifty—wine included in 
both cases and no gratuities expected. Still, it is safer to 
agree upon the price and elements of the meal with the pro¬ 
prietor beforehand.’’ 

That walking tours may be undertaken by women abroad 
with ease and propriety is shown by the reports of many in 
late years, particularly in Scotland, the English Lake District, 
Wales, Germany, and Switzerland. “A Summer in England,” 
the manual issued by the Woman’s Rest Tour Association, 
says that the outfit for a walking tour should include a light 
woolen Norfolk jacket or pleated waist, with leather belt; a 
skirt, rather shorter than the ordinary sensible street dress 
(to be made still shorter, on occasion, by the use of large 
safety-pins); a soft, dark felt hat or Tam o’ Shanter, and easy 
walking boots, or (what English women generally choose) 
low shoes and gaiters. In Switzerland the boots must be fur¬ 
nished with nails, for climbing. A divided skirt (gray mohair 
or some light-weight stuff) should be the only petticoat worn, 
and the combination undersuit is preferably of silk or light¬ 
weight wool. Stockings should be of fine woolen (to pre¬ 
vent blisters), and the gloves chamois or Biarritz. 

The “pack” consists of a light waterproof, rolled very 
small, and a knapsack; one twelve inches wide, eleven high, 
and three across, has been proved a convenient size. This 
will contain the necessary toilet articles, a second suit of un¬ 
derwear, an extra pair of stockings and gloves, and a drink¬ 
ing-cup. Articles for general use, such as vaseline, thread and 
needles, safety-pins, postal-cards, a whisk- broom, a map of the 
neighborhood, guide-book, soap, and a package of sweet 
chocolate, may be distributed among the members of the 
party. The knapsack, when filled, should not and need not 
weigh four pounds. In place of the knapsack, some pedes¬ 
trians recommend a pouch suspended by a strap from the 


HOW TO TRAVEL ABROAD# 85 

shoulder; the weight can then be shifted from time to time. 
To reduce weight, it is well to cut out the section of Baedeker 
to be used during the trip. A harness maker will provide the 
belt with strong hooks (such as are often used by members of 
the Appalachian Club), to which a sketch-book, flower-press, 
drinking-cup, waterproof and other “portable property” may 
be attached. Arrange your outfit before you leave America. 
It has been found difficult to obtain just the right sort of 
knapsack abroad. An umbrella is a luxury rather than a 
necessity. 

Pedestrians, or for that matter bicyclists or any other 
tourists who undertake severe physical exertion, may find in 
it an excuse for favoring what in homely phrase is known as 
“a sweet tooth,” for if the scientific men are right, a longing 
for sweets may be very far from a sign of effeminacy. In¬ 
vestigation at the instance of the Prussian war office has 
shown that after a large amount of muscular effort a com¬ 
paratively small quantity of sugar produces an invigorating 
effect worth regarding. The theory is that the muscular 
effort makes the blood poor in sugar. This may explain why 
on Alpine excursions a desire developes for candy and sweet¬ 
ened food, and why guides eagerly appropriate any left-over 
sugar. 


CHAPTER V. 


BICYCLE TOURING. 

Assuming good health and ordinary strength, the bicycle 
unquestionably gives the best means for enjoying a European 
trip that is undertaken chiefly for sight-seeing. If there were 
truth in a common notion that the only important object in 
going to Europe should be to see beautiful buildings, art 
galleries, and other travelers, the tourist would have slight 
use for the bicycle, as all these things are to be seen mainly 
in the cities; but the fact is that the rural districts are the more 
delightful, the people of the towns and villages are the more 
interesting, and of course real scenery is rustic, so that tour¬ 
ing by bicycle gives more pleasure and added profit, while 
fostering health. Even in the cities the wheel has its ad¬ 
vantages, for abroad as well as at home it is a time-saver, 
and you can see far more of the externals of a place in one 
morning with a bicycle than by tramping about for two or 
three days, but it is in journeying across country that the 
great gain comes, for only in such travel, whether on a wheel, 
in a carriage or a-foot, do you learn how the people live and 
what they are. 

Compared with the pedestrian tour, that by wheel has the 
advantage «of saving a great deal of time, the disadvantage of 
hurrying past some scenery that should be taken slowly. But 
he who wisely walks up all the slopes, rests at charming 
view-points, and makes of his journey a jaunt rather than a 
task, will find that he has missed little by which the pedestrian 
would have profited. The wheelman can travel as cheap as 
the pedestrian, and much cheaper than the rail tourist, be¬ 
cause with convenience he can stop at smaller towns, where 
hotel bills are always smaller than in the cities, though the 
accommodations often have more real comfort. He has no 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


87 

railroad tickets to buy, no cabs to hire, and he has the great 
advantage of arriving at hotels without the flourish that in¬ 
vites high charges, under circumstances that permit his easy 
departure for another hostelry if the rates and appearance of 
the first he tries do not suit him. Leaving out clothing, 
mementoes and presents, he can tour comfortably in Great 
Britain for $3 a day and on the Continent for $2.50 a day; 
without great haidship he can reduce these figures a quarter; 
by increasing them a quarter, he can have more luxury than 
suits the ordinary wheelman, for, as a rule, the lover of out¬ 
door sport prefers plain, substantial food, and for his room 
demands little more than a comfortable bed. 

Women can make a bicycle tour as economically as men, 
and most of them spend less, often going by preference to 
lodgings rather than to hotels, being less lavish with fees, and 
paying less for what they eat, still less for what they drink. 
It is not uncommon for women to make bicycle tours abroad 
at an expenditure averaging not mqyre than $1.50 a day for the 
living expenses. They can tour with perfect safety and free¬ 
dom anywhere in Great Britain, even singly, for many Eng¬ 
lish women ride the wheel unaccompanied, and attract no 
comment. But I should hesitate to counsel any young 
woman to ride alone on the Continent, for I fear she would 
occasionally be exposed to insult, and continually to unpleas¬ 
ant curiosity. Continental women rarely ride without escort. 
Two or more American wheelwomen might ride through 
Central Europe without a single unpleasant experience, but 
accidents would doubtless be more serious to them than to 
men, and ignorance of the language more embarrassing. 

The wheelman who has the good fortune of the company 
of one of the other sex is to be congratulated, not only for 
the additional pleasure of the best of companionship, but also 
because he will perforce resist the temptation to ride too fast 
and too far. He will in any event do well not to ride alone, 
for if unaccompanied he is likely to ride too soon after eating, 
to pedal faster than he ought, and to have tediously lonesome 
hours. From two to six people can advantageously tour to¬ 
gether; more than that number will find the usual drawbacks 
of an excursion party, and may be sometimes bothered by the 


88 


GOING ABROAD? 


scarcity of good rooms in village inns. The pace, too, seldom 
suits the capacities or the preference of all. “Personally con¬ 
ducted” bicycle tours are offered by the tourist agencies and 
by others; they differ little in advantage and disadvantage 
from other traveling of this sort. 

Whether it pays to take a bicycle if most of the traveling 
is to be done by rail, is a question most wheelmen would 
answer in the negative, but I have met bicycle enthusiasts 
who say they would take a wheel on any but the most hasty 
tour. With well-to-do English people the bicycle has come 
to be almost as essential a part of the. traveling outfit as the 
tin bath-tub that amuses the Yankee so much. In London I 
chanced for a while to be staying near one of the great rail¬ 
way stations, and was struck with the large number of wheels 
I saw on the tops of the hansoms and cabs going to and 
from the trains. By the way, don’t speak of “wheels” abroad. 
You won’t be understood; in England it is “your bike”; in 
France, “votre bicycletteflj[ 

The transportation of wheels by train or cab is no more 
bothersome abroad than that of a trunk; in Great Britain it 
is more costly, on parts of the Continent trifling. But when 
bicycles become baggage, they are as bothersome as any 
other baggage, and that is no mild statement. They may be 
a convenience in getting to and from hotels, but the rail 
tourist seldom is attired in a fashion that makes bicycle riding 
pleasant, which suggests what is really the worst feature of 
taking a wheel along as an accessory,—the fact that your at¬ 
tire, your luggage and your plans do not fit in with its 
habitual use. On the other hand, the best feature of having 
it is the chance it gives for seeing suburbs, for excursions 
into the country and for recreation. 

TOURING CLUBS. 

If you are not already a member of the League of 
American Wheelmen, join it as soon as you have made up 
your mind to tour abroad. Apart from the pleasure it should 
give every American wheelman and wheelwoman to co-oper¬ 
ate in the cause of good roads and just legislation, is the 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


89 

benefit to be derived from its alliance with the Cyclists’ Tour¬ 
ing Club of Great Britain, commonly known as the C. T. C., 
just as the American club is called the L. A. W., and the 
Touring-Club de France the T. C. F. Membership in all 
these clubs is open to men and women alike, and the formali¬ 
ties are very simple. The blank application for membership in 
the L. A. W. will be furnished by Abbot Bassett, Secretary, 
221 Columbus Ave., Boston. Return it to him with $1 00, being 
for annual dues and the official organ of the League. Your 
membership card (as is also the case with that of the C. T. C. 
or the T. C. F.) will be sent where you may direct, so that if 
you apply for membership in any of these organizations too 
late for the card to reach you before you sail, it can be 
addressed to you in care of your banker at London or Paris; a 
hotel in Liverpool or Southampton or elsewhere; or the Poste 
Restante (General Delivery) anywhere. 

The L. A. W. Secretary will on application send a C. T. C. 
ticket, which will secure hotel discounts and the other C. T. C. 
benefits on the road. The C. T. C. Handbook will cost 
L. A. W. members $0.75 and the other C. T. C. publications 
may be had at members’ rates. The L. A. W. Secretary ad¬ 
vises getting them in London to save duty. 

It is well worth while joining the C. T. C., for the sake of 
being a member of so important and useful an organization, 
getting the monthly magazine which is sent to its members, 
and profiting by its various facilities. The dues for the first 
year are $1.65; for subsequent years, $1.35. For a member¬ 
ship application send a stamped envelope to its Chief Consul 
for the United States, Frank W. Weston, Savin Hill, Boston, 
Mass., whose disinterested labors in its behalf deserve the 
gratitude of all American wheelmen that profit by them. The 
Headquarters of the Club are at 47 Victoria St., London, be¬ 
tween the Houses of Parliament and the American embassy. 
Members can there examine the books and maps on sale, 
and get any information or advice they may desire. 

The Club Hand-book contains a list of the C. T. G 
hotels, with particulars of the tariff and discount applicable 
to each; a key map; a list of the Consuls to whom each mem¬ 
ber may apply for guidance or for information not contained 
in the Club publications; a list of the officers; the Club Rules 



GOING ABROAD? 


90 

and Regulations: information as to the C. T. C. riding cos¬ 
tume or uniform and a list of the Club tailors from whom it 
can be obtained; hints as to touring, suggestions as to repair 
of cycles; table of railway rates; of sunrises and sunsets; of 
phases of the moon; and general information, including pages 
for a complete diary and riding record. The C. T. C. Hand¬ 
books are published annually, in time for the touring season. 

Of most importance is the list of hotels. Arrangements 
have been made with from one to three in about every village 
of the United Kingdom, whereby members have specified 
prices for all usual services, with discounts ranging up to 25 
per cent., most of them discounting two-pence in frhe shilling, 
or about 17 per cent. Computation from the values of the 
first hundred in the book (and they are typical) shows the 
net charges to average, after deducting discount, as follows: 
Breakfast of tea, coffee, or cocoa, with bread and butter, toast 
and preserve, 23 cts.; same with eggs, 29 cts.; same with ham 
and eggs, chops, steak, cold meat or fish, 36 cts. Luncheon 
or supper of cold meat, potatoes, salad or pickles, cheese, 
bread and butter, 36 cts.; of chop, steak or cut from hot joint 
(if any), potatoes, cheese, bread and butter, 40 cts. Dinner 
of soup or fish, hot joints, potatoes and vegetables, sweets, 
cheese, bread and butter, 54 cts. Single-bedded room occu¬ 
pied by one member, 38 cts.; occupied by two members, 59 
cts.; double-bedded room, two members, two beds, 69 cts. 
Attendance per night (none for meals) each member, 8 cts. 
Add 10 per cent, for fees, and you may figure out that living 
expenses for a member of the Club will run from $1.66 to 
$1.93 a day, according to his appetite. But. though nearly all 
the hotels set a price on such a dinner as that specified above, 
as a matter of fact you will rarely get it. The hot joint was 
served the day before or will not be cooked till tomorrow, 
and you will be offered cold meat till it becomes insufferable. 
But you can always get a chop or steak cooked to order. 

It is the intention of the Club officials to have cm the list 
no hotels that are not respectable and clean. In almost ail 
the smaller places the C. T. C. hotels are the best. The one 
criticism to be made of the list is that in the larger places the 
arrangements have been made with the “commercial” rather 
than with the “family” hotels, i. e., those frequented by com- 


BICYCLE TOURING. 91 

mercial travelers rather than those accustomed to care for 
tourists. As the commercial traveler will support no hotel 
that is not comfortable and clean, there is no objection in this 
for wheelmen, but it is sometimes a bit awkward for wheel- 
women, especially if unaccompanied by escort, to go to a 
hotel where ladies are much in the minority. As a matter of 
fact, they will get courteous treatment, but the situation isn’t 
pleasant. Husband and wife, even, will occasionally find it 
better to desert the C. T. C. list and seek a hotel where 
women at table are the usual thing. 

The system of dinners at “commercial” hotels proved too 
much for me to comprehend. We were regularly debarred 
from the “commercial” dinner served at noon, and made to 
eat by ourselves a meal that usually was cooked to order. 
But we learned from it that there actually are places outside 
London where somebody at some times under some circum¬ 
stances can get a good dinner. Our previous experience had 
not led us so to think. 

The Touring-Club de France is still larger than its 
British neighbor, having about 75.000 members. It is equally 
fortunate in the character of its membership, and equally 
effective its purpose to aid tourists. It has no alliance with 
the L. A. W., but its members get all the advantages of 
membership in the Touring Clubs of Italy, Switzerland, 
Belgium, and Luxemburg, so that if you plan to visit any of 
these countries, be sure to join. Americans can apply for 
membership to Francis S. Hesseltine, Esq., 10 Tremont St., 
Boston, who is as generous and philantrophic in his labors for 
the French Club as is Mr. Weston for the British. Send him 
a stamped envelope for an application blank, and on filling it 
out forward it to him with $1.50, on receipt of which he will 
send your membership card to such address here or abroad as 
you may direct. The Annuaire of the Club, containing the list 
of hotels, prices, and much other valuable information, is 
issued in two parts, one for Northern France, the other for 
Southern France, at $0.25 each; there is also the Annuaire 
Etranger for countries other than France, costing $0.50. Mr. 
Hesseltine as an accommodation to cyclists will furnish road 
maps of France at #0.25, and cloth maps of Switzerland and 
the Tyrol at $0.75. The Club itself issues numerous road 


GOING ABROAD? 


92 

maps and itineraries at a nominal price. It wiU furnish the 
guide books of Joanne, Baedecker, Conty, etc., at a discount 
of 25 per cent. Mr. Hesseltine will be glad to answer any 
definite inquiries, but remember that like Mr. Weston he is a 
busy man. 

The headquarters of the French Club are comfortably 
located at 65, Avenue de la Grande Armee, Paris, where 
members have access to a cycling library and will find a 
hospitable reception. The hotel list in its hand book is better 
than the English list. In every city outside Paris it has at 
least one hotel of the first class, where wheelwomen will 
find no embarrassment. As French landlords are more likely 
than British landlords to raise their rates to foreigners, the 
saving through the use of the book is of even more con¬ 
sequence. I saved the cost of membership twice over on the 
first French hotel bill presented to me after I joined the 
T. C. F. 

The rates of the first hundred hotels for which the prices 
are given in the T. C. F. book, after deducting the discount, 
average as follows: Breakfast (roll and coffee, tea or choco¬ 
late), 13 cts.; luncheon (as hearty as the ordinary American 
noon meal), 40 cts.; table-d’hote dinner, 52 cts.; chamber, 31 
cts.; total, $1.36. Add 10 per cent, for fees, and it gives pre¬ 
cisely $1.50 a day as the cost of living expenses for touring in 
France as a member of the T. C. F. Table wine, cider or 
beer, according to the custom of the region, is almost in¬ 
variably included without extra charge, and it is stipulated 
that there shall be no charge for lights or service. 

By comparing these figures with those given in the fol¬ 
lowing chapter, you will see that the T. C. F. member saves 
in hotel bills more than a third of what the rail tourist ordi¬ 
narily pays. I can vouch for the fact that except in the cities 
he goes to the best hotel in the place, and in the qi'ties he can 
go to a high grade hotel if he chooses. Most of the guests in 
a T. C. F. hotel I used in Paris were Americans or English¬ 
men paying rail-tourist rates. Of course in a list comprising 
inary hundred hotels, some are inferior, and, of course, the 
most luxurious hotels at watering places and summer resorts 
are not given to making such rates for anybody, but it is 
perfectly safe to say that with rare exceptions the best 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


93 

T. C. F. hotel in each place will satisfy any American 
bicyclist. 

By the way, you need not be accompanied by a wheel in 
order to get the benefits of the T. C. F. or the C. T. C. 
hotel lists. A man who never mounted a wheel may, if a 
member of either Club, get 'the schedule rates, and, there¬ 
fore, any European tourist ma" thriftily join. A member of 
the French Club may get the same rates for his wife and 
children without their being members, but the C. T. C. privi¬ 
leges are confined to members. Husband and wife, brother 
and sister, should both join each club, not only to avoid any 
question in the payment of hotel bills, but also for the custom 
house benefits, since each member of a family with a wheel 
will require the membership in order to pass the custom house. 
The application of women for membership must have the 
recommendation of some male relation. 

Perhaps the pleasantest feature of the thing is that the 
use of Club cards saves haggling. You know in advance 
exactly what you are to pay. The arrangement appears to be 
perfectly satisfactory to landlords, and if anything you get 
better rather than worse treatment through being known as a 
Club member, provided you state the fact when you enter the 
hotel. That is not necessary, but it is always wise. Only 
once did I suspect that I got a worse room in consequence. 
And I had no friction over the Club stipulations, save in the 
one matter of a provision that the price of a two-bedded 
room is to be twice that of a room with one bed when on the 
first floor, and half as large again as that of the one-bedded 
room if higher up. Every landlord insisted on doubling the 
single-bedded rate no matter where the room might be, and 
at last I gave up trying to make them understand what they 
had agreed to with the Club. There was, to be sure, almost 
invariably an over-charge in the bill, but it was always cheer¬ 
fully corrected when pointed out, and its regularity soon 
changed from a matter of annoyance to one of amusement. 
It is simply the Continental landlord’s way of having his 
little joke, for which you pay dearly if you don’t detect the 
humor of it before you get away, whether you depart by 
wheel or train. 

Inasmuch as comparatively few Frenchmen tour outside 


GOING ABROAD? 


• 94 

their own country, it would be a one-sided arrangement were 
the T. C. F. t > exchange privileges with other clubs, and it 
has cancelled all affiliation such as that of the L. A. W. with 
the C. T. C. It has its own arrangements with hotels in 
other Continental countries, and the C. T. C. likewise has 
hotel arrangements on the Continent. 

The C. T. C. has arrangenfents with a large number of 
hotels outside Great Britain, having all told, at home and 
abroad, direct contracts with more than 10,000. It issues what 
it calls a Foreign Hand-book at a price of 48 cts., con" 
taining hints on touring, foreign cycling regulations, railway 
fares and charges for bicycle transportation, an up-to-date 
vocabulary of cycling terms in foreign languages, and much 
other useful information, together with the hotel lists. Like¬ 
wise the T. C. F. has many contracts with hotels outside France. 

Though the French hotels and their rates are often the 
same for the two clubs, I should prefer to rely on membership 
in the French Club for French hotels. To be sure, the 
C. T. C. claims to have contract arrangements with more 
hotels in France itself than the T. C. F., but it stands to 
reason that a French Club would make more intelligent dis¬ 
crimination than a foreign club. Elsewhere on the Continent, 
though the books of both clubs may well be used, that of 
the C. T. C. is likely to be of the more benefit, for through its 
direct arrangements, and those made indirectly through the 
Touring Clubs of the various countries, it far surpasses the 
French Club in the contracts in force. 

In Germany, for instance, T. C. F. membership gets 
reduced rates in but 27 hotels, while C. T. C. membership gets 
it in 2,740; in Italy the T. C. F. has contracts with 38, the 
C. T. C. with 1,185; an d the same state of affairs prevails in 
most of the other countries. All told, at home and abroad, the 
C. T. C. has direct contracts with more than 10,000 hotels. 

Germany, Belgium, Italy, Austria, Denmark, Holland, 
Spain and Sweden have prosperous clubs of their own, but 
membership in them is not likely to be worth the while of a 
member of the C. T. C. and T. C. F. unless for students or 
others residing temporarily abroad. 

All the Clubs have Consuls or corresponding representa¬ 
tives in all the places of consequence within their own 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


95 

countries, who will cheerfully serve Club members in any 
reasonable way. The pleasantest pension I found in France 
was reached through the local representative of the T. C. F. 

THE WHEEL AND ITS PARTS. 


American bicycles are lighter, easier, cheaper, and more 
graceful than those of European manufacture. They are 
strong enough; those of English make are so needlessly 
strong that they are heavy and clumsy. There is no reason 
why any high-grade American wheel should not serve for a 
lour abroad, and every reason why it is preferable. Bicycles 
can be hired by the hour, day, week or month in any Euro¬ 
pean city, but hired bicycles are frequently poor bicycles; 
they are usually worn and treacherous. Though without 
great difficulty you can hire an American wheel abroad, bet¬ 
ter take one from here if you plan to tour. 

But don’t, don’t, don’t take one with single-tube tires. I 
received this advice, disregarded it, and paid the penalty. I 
had heard of single tubes that went through Europe without 
a puncture and I took the chances. In England no accident 
happened, but within twenty minutes after starting on French 
soil, the first hob-nail went through my extra heavy tire. 
The hob-nail is a despicable invention of the Evil One, admir¬ 
ably designed to encourage the use of profanity. It is a long 
tack, with a broad, flat head, most commonly used in the 
sabots worn by the peasants of many parts of the Continent. 
As they stump along the roads, the tacks fall out, and then, 
with the imperceptible business end sticking up, they await 
the doomed bicyclist. In one repair shop at Tours I saw 
more than a hundred the repairer had taken out of tires that 
spring. Six of them in a week used up all the rubber solution 
left in my repair kit, most of it having apparently evaporated 
en route. Then the trouble began. And it continued till we 
reached home. Even in a city as large as Tours, no repairer 
could stop a hole completely. One thought he had succeeded 
brilliantly when he had fastened in a huge mushroom,— 
wrong end up, with a cone projecting from the tire that went 
bumpety-bump till it fell out. There wasn’t a vulcanizer in 
France outside Paris, and the one there was in the hands of 


9 6 


GOING ABROAD? 


the agent of a certain American tire who would vulcanize no 
other. May he some day get his deserts! Hope rose when 
we reached London. The agent of the same American tire 
gave the same refusal, but sent us to a man who sold and vul¬ 
canized single tube tires. His job seemed to be a success, 
but on the first day out of London it proved a failure and I 
limped to Liverpool, getting as much exercise from blowing 
up tires as from pedalling. 

Single tube tires are all right in the right region, with 
plenty of repair material at hand, and with access to repairers 
who can repair punctures that need vulcanizing. Elsewhere 
they are a vain thing for safety. In all France I could not 
find an ounce of the quick drying solution ordinarily sold 
with repair kits. In neither England nor France, outside 
London, did I find a repairer who understood the single-tube 
tire. Many repairers will not even look at it, will not let it 
come into the shop. Don’t take it to the land of hob-nails 
and thorns and flinty road-beds. 

Yet if you insist on taking the more than even chance of 
having your trip marred, there are three or four precautions 
you may be willing to accept. One is to put on a pair of the 
tires claimed to be puncture-proof. Another is to take the 
heaviest tire on the market, known as an “export tire,” which 
has the wearing portion very thick. Another is to have the 
ordinary tires re-inforced with rubber bands; it will cost you 
from $3 to $5 to have them put on in some English or Conti¬ 
nental repair shop. I note that correspondents of the C. T. C. 
Gazette praise highly the Echo Puncture-Preventing Shields, 
which are hog-skin bands, said to be non-puncturable. The 
company will fit them for $3.50 a pair if you send the tires to 
Birkdale, Eng., or it will send the shields for $3.12, and it is 
said you can easily put them on by yourself. The most im¬ 
portant precaution of all is to take along an extra tire in your 
trunk or bag, with cement enough to put it on. Single-tube 
tires can be bought in the foreign capitals, but at twice what 
they cost in the States. 

It is the common supposition that double-tube tires are 
not put on wooden rims, but I am told this is not the case. 
On the contrary, it is said that any maker will, if you insist on 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


97 

it, fit double tubes to your wooden rims. You can get metal 
wheels on most makes of bicycles, and some good wheels are 
designed only for double-tube tires. Englishmen insist that 
wooden rims are not suited to weather conditions abroad, 
but Americans do not grant this. 

In his entertaining and useful book, “Why Not Cycle 
Abroad Yourself?” Clarence Stetson describes a simple de¬ 
vice used by some French riders to lessen the chance of 
picking up tacks or even bits of glass. They attach a little 
wire across the fork where the wheel turns, about a sixteenth 
of an inch from the tire. Their argument is that the tack does 
not puncture the rubber when the wheel first touches it, but 
is picked up and does the mischief when it strikes the ground 
again. The wire knocks it off before this harm is done. 
Those who have tried it say they have never since had a 
puncture. It certainly will cost no wheelman anything to 
try it. 

Later in his book Mr. Stetson describes how an Italian 
repairer fixed a bad puncture: “Over the point where the 
nail had entered he had glued on several layers of rubber, 
and over this he had wound several yards of white cloth, all 
of which was fastened down with a piece of red flannel. 
Signor Maggi explained that if the tire didn’t have a relapse 
after being ridden two or three hours, we could remove these 
outside bandages. He then charged us eight lire (two dol¬ 
lars) for his work and said good morning, and prepared to 
receive the congratulations of all his friends.” But Signor 
Maggi had put back the tire on the wooden rim with little or 
no glue, and after ten miles of riding the rubber about the 
valve was so badly cut as to make the tire useless. 

The ignorance of European repairers in the matter of 
gear-driven wheels kept me from taking a chainless wheel 
across. Many such wheels have gone through Europe in 
excellent shape, and their riders commend them, especially 
for use on wet, muddy roads. But the delicacy of the gears 
is such that in case any accident should happen, it would 
probably be necessary to take the train to the nearest big 
city in order to find a machinist equal to repairing the dam¬ 
age. Joseph Pennell, the artist, who is the L. A. W. Consul 
in London, says that he tried a chainless on a tour and found 


9 8 


GOING ABROAD? 


it the deadest thing he ever rode. It was an English chain¬ 
less, and perhaps that made some difference. 

Gear cases to protect the chain are the usual thing on 
English wheels. These, with the mud guards before and be¬ 
hind, arouse the derision of every American wheelman at first 
sight, but as usual where a custom prevails, there is a reason 
for it and sense in it. Wet weather is much more common 
in Great Britain than either in the States or on the Continent, 
and there is much more of riding on wet roads, not only by 
reason of the weather, but also because the watering cart is 
abroad in the land. The quarter-inch of mire on the surface 
cf London streets is the stickiest stuff that ever spattered a 
bicycle. Ride over it a day and you will wish your own 
wheel had mud-guards. But as these guards, the gear case, 
the brake and the usual luggage carrier seen on English 
wheels make it not uncommon for them to tip the'scales at 
40 pounds and more, most American tourists will prefer to 
get along without the encumbrances. 

Brakes are far more common abroad than in the States. 
Indeed, I note one counsellor who says: “It would be the 
height of folly to attempt a European tour without a brake; 
they are useful, particularly in cities like Paris (where one 
finds the most careless drivers in the world) to aid you in 
stopping quickly on the crowded boulevards, as well as on ( 
many of the hills in the neighborhood of Paris, to say noth¬ 
ing of being absolutely necessary when touring in Switzer¬ 
land.” The last assertion I will accept without demur, but for 
any tour not extending into a mountainous region the rider 
who needs no brake at home, will need none abroad. Many 
riders enjoy the sense of intimacy with their machines given 
by sole reliance on the pedals, and feel the safer for it. What 
the English call “the free wheel” and Americans “the coaster 
brake” has now come into such general use that the old hand 
brake problem is no longer of much importance. Doubtless 
nearly every tourist will use the coaster brake. Its friends 
appear to have won the battle waged so long and vigorously 
in cycle publications and on the road, but there are still a 
few sceptics. One tourist tells me it has doubled the pleas¬ 
ures of touring in foreign lands. Another declares that after 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


99 

a test for two or three months he concludes that the free 
wheel is all right for good roads in dry weather, and for lazy 
riding, but that tor long trips and give-and-take conditions he 
has not found it satisfactory. Take your choice. 

The medium or low-geared wheel is by all odds the best 
for touring abroad. Because you have heard the roads of 
England and France are the best in the world, do not expect 
them to be of the billiard table variety. I think they average 
to have more grades than those of the States. Though per¬ 
haps steep hills are not so common, yet there are plenty of 
long slopes where it pays to have low gears; 74 is plenty high 
enough, and between 60 and 70 is still the preference with 
most English riders, though the tendency is to follow our 
example in increasing the gear and lengthening the crank. 
The wheels should be the same size, 28 in., not only because 
it will be easier to get an extra tire abroad if you must, but 
also because you can interchange the tires if need be. It is 
the rear tire that gets the more strain and gives out first. 
Even before it gives signs of wear, it may be wise to take an 
hour on some rainy day and interchange the two. It is not 
advisable to take a tandem, partly because of its greater lia¬ 
bility to the danger of breakage of chain or frame, partly be¬ 
cause it prevents one of a pair of riders from making excur¬ 
sions alone when the other prefers to rest or perforce must 
rest by reason of illness or fatigue. Furthermore, two single 
wheels can easier carry a given amount of luggage than one 
tandem. 

How to carry the luggage is a more mooted question 
even than that of brakes, free wheels or gears. One man 
said to me beforehand: “The only rational way to carry 
luggage is on the handle bar.” The next expert I consulted 
said none but a fool would carry it on the handle bar, and 
that the proper place for it was behind the saddle. I com¬ 
promised by using both ways, with a luggage carrier in the 
frame as well. The result of trying all three things made ic 
my personal belief that it is practicable with comfort to carry 
on the handle bar a small leather hand-bag, best attached by 
means of two snaps that can be had at any hardware or har¬ 
ness shop for a few cents. These I fastened to the bar by 


100 


GOING ABROAD? 


winding with stout cord and some German silver wire, so that 
the snaps would catch in the rings at either end of the handle 
of the bag, put there for the use of people who carry such 
bags by a strap over the shoulder. In this bag carry the 
map, guide-book, toilet articles, and all the small con¬ 
veniences you can crowd in. Then in the frame carrier put 
the change of underwear, night shirt, etc. Beneath the 
saddle swing the tool bag and the thin rubber cape that rolls 
up so compactly. 

For a woman’s wheel I bought a square hand-bag, 12 
in. long, 7 in. deep, and 6 in. wide. To this I had a harness 
maker attach three little straps with buckles, so that one 
could go through the slot in the saddle and the others around 
the frame, hanging it so that at the start when filled it cleared 
the mud-guard by a quarter of an inch. As a matter of fact, 
it sagged afterward so that it rested on the mud-guard, but 
only lightly, and no damage resulted. The straps must be 
put on very strongly, as the strain is considerable. This 
carried the necessaries except the light coat, which was 
fastened to the handle-bar by the ordinary straps. 

The frame bag for a man’s wheel should have stiff sides. 
Those of leather are heavy. If you can find a stout one 
cloth-covered, it will answer lor one tour at least. If the 
sides can bulge, they will prove bothersome in riding. If 
the bag hangs so low that a pedal at the top of its revolu¬ 
tion will come above the bottom of the bag, there is danger 
of a nasty spill in case the bag slips to either side. English 
riders fancy the wire basket carrier, in which they put bag 
or bundle, usually in front of the handle-bar, sometimes 
over the rear wheel. Occasionally you will find a tourist 
traveling with all his goods and chattels rolled in a piece of 
rubber cloth and strapped to the handle-bar. A few will go 
with a pouch hanging from the shoulder, surely the worst 
way of all. Happiest the man whose wants are so few that 
he goes without any luggage at all! 

Lamps, or at any rate a light of some kind, are indi¬ 
spensable if riding is to be done after dark. The law requires 
that lamps shall be lighted an hour after sundown, and usu¬ 
ally it is enforced, though now and then you will find a city 


BICYCLE TOURING. ioi 

where it is ignored, and as a rule it is safe to travel a coun¬ 
try road without a lamp. The tourist so seldom 
needs to ride after dark that it is a pity to add 
the burden of a lamp. In cities on the few occasions 
when you may want to wheel in the late evening, you can 
meet the requirements of the law, at any rate in France, by 
buying a Chinese lantern and a candle for a few cents, and 
letting it swing from the handle-bar. In England the mid¬ 
summer twilights are so long that the tourist seldom has 
need for a light of any kind. 

In France and most other Continental countries the 
law demands a bell, gong, or horn, audible at 50 yards. 
Every cautious rider will be sure to carry a good one any¬ 
way. 

Name plates, essential in some regions, are worth hav¬ 
ing anywhere, both to protect the wheels and as a means of 
identification. The C. T. C. furnishes them at a day’s notice 
for 40 cts., with your name and address engraved, and a 
tag for writing railway or hotel addresses. Get one. 

Don’t be afraid of taking too many duplicate parts,— 
chain links, nuts, spokes, handle-grip, etc. You may not 
need one, but if you do the chances are you oan’t get it 
where you may be. The nuts that bothered me most by 
dropping off were those that fasten the rubber strips in the 
pedals. 

Make sure that the repair kit is complete, and particu¬ 
larly that the tubes of rubber solution are full and securely 
corked, so that the rubber cannot ooze out or evaporate. 
Supply yourself with several rubber plugs of various sizes. 

PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIP. 

If you buy a new wheel and are not familiar with its 
mechanism, make the dealer take it apart and put it to¬ 
gether in your presence, or else get a repairer or some 
skilled friend to do it. I recall an incident showing the 
importance of this. My pedal was attached to the crank in 
a way simple enough w-hen you understand it, but sure to 
mystify anybody without mechanical “gumption” who had 


102 


GOING ABROAD? 


not learned its knack. When one dropped off on an Isle of 
Wight road several mjles from a town, the experience would 
have been wearisome had I not puzzled the thing out at the 
time I bought^t-he machine. I do not understand why mak¬ 
ers deliver machines without printed instructions as to these 
things, but they do, or at any rate I know none that do not. 

You may have occasion to take off and replace a wheel, 
to take up the slack in the chain, to readjust saddle-post or 
handle-bar, and you should know how to do these things 
right before you start. Most of the adjusting, however, 
should have been completed before you leave home. Any 
new wheel should be ridden at least a hundred miles before 
taking it abroad. The best of them need breaking in, ad¬ 
justing, slight alteration or repairing. The preliminary rid¬ 
ing will show weak points if any exist, and it is far better 
to adjust and alter and make perfect before starting than to 
wait till you get where time is precious and parts are scarce 
and men acquainted with your wheel cannot be found. 

Another thing to be broken in is the footwear. Rash 
the man or woman who starts on a long tour with new 
shoes! Men will find no need for shoes especially made for 
bicycling. You are likely to walk or stand more hours than 
you ride, and such' walking boots as you would ordinarily 
use will be found the best things for your purpose. Some 
women prefer the high laced boot; others, the low shoe. 
Their relative comfort depends on the weather, with the 
chances favoring the high boot. 

Men may easily, quickly and cheaply get their bicycle 
suits in England or France, preferably in England. The 
C. T. C. has arrangements with tailors who furnish stylish 
suits of excellent cloth at a fixed price in two or three days 
after one is measured. There is a choice of materials, and 
though the suit is called a “uniform” there is nothing in the 
way of braid or buttons or anything else to differentiate it 
from an ordinary suit. Cap, coat, knickerbockers and stock¬ 
ings will come to about $15. Have it made with all-wool 
pockets, stiffenings, linings, etc., for then it will dry quickly 
when damped by rain or perspiration. 

Wool, indeed, is to my mind the only material for 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


JOJ 


bicycle touring. Comparatively few people wear all-wool 
underclothing in the summer, and the idea of it is far from 
attractive to people who haven’t tried it. On the other hand 
those who do try it will unanimously back up my assertion 
that the lightest all-wool underwear is not merely en¬ 
durable,—it is more comfortable than anything else, and far 
safer, for wheeling induces copious perspiration, and to cool 
off safely when wearing damp cotton is a hard thing to 
accomplish. Time and again one is forcibly impressed with 
the fact that though in the sun it is just as hot in England 
or France as anywhere else,—whether Iceland or Florida,— 
yet in the shade it is as a rule cooler the higher the altitude 
or latitude. England is much nearer the pole than any part 
of the States, and Paris is much farther north than Quebec. 
The nights are almost invariably cool, and in the day time 
one gets comfortable with surprising quickness when for¬ 
saking the shadeless road for the shelter of the trees. Fur¬ 
thermore, one frequently has occasion to enter cathedrals, 
chateaux or other large buildings where the danger of get¬ 
ting cold is not slight unless one is clad in wool. 

The lightest French flannel or other all-wool over-shirt 
with detachable collar will be found preferable. Some riders 
praise the celluloid or rubber collars and cuffs for steady 
use. Others prefer the flannel collar on the road, changing 
to linen at evening. Few foreign wheelmen will be noticed 
riding without a coat; it is in their opinion bad form to 
appear coatless on the wheel. Any one who 'wears woolen 
under and outer shirts will find a sweater needless and an 
incumbrance in the summer months, except, perhaps, in the 
higher parts of Switzerland or Scandinavia. 

In the matter of wheelwoman’s attire tastes so differ 
that advice will be superfluous. I will only quote one who 
has toured as saying that her individual preference is for a 
woolen skirt reaching to midway the knee and ankle. (Eng¬ 
lish women ride in skirts as long as those of street dresses; 
French women for the most part with no skirts at all, pre¬ 
ferring bloomers.) Skirt and coat, my informant thinks, 
should be of some stout, medium-colored material, for they 
get hard usage, mud is frequent, and dust not rare. She 


104 


GOING ABROAD? 


extols wash-silk waists because they can be carried so easily. 
For the hat she counsels felt. And she says 'that on hex 
next trip she shall take a light silk gown, a summer silk, for 
use evenings if her traveling bag can meet her every 
night, or at any rate once a week, and in cities where she 
may tarry a day or more. Last time she lived two months 
in a bicycle suit, and she says she will not do it again. 

In the larger cities it is usually possible to get washing 
done in 24 hours, sometimes less, but it is not so easy in the 
small cities and towns. Those who rest on Sundays and on 
no other days will find the laundry question bothersome. 
For these reasons it is best to be equipped with at least three 
sets of underclothing. One wheelman told me he had a 
trunk meet him once a week, and that 'he carried in it 
enough underwear to let him accumulate soiled garments 
for a month. Then he would have the garments all washed 
at once. 

The cyclists’ waterproof cape that may be bought in an 
English cycle supply shop for from one to two dollars, is 
light and easily portable. In Great Britain it is reasonably 
sure to prove worth the carrying, and on the Continent one 
is frequently glad to have it. 

Maps are essential; road books are useful, though not 
indispensable. Maps of foreign countries can be bought 
there in such variety and of such excellence that I shall not 
try to specify. At the stationers’ shops or the Club head¬ 
quarters you can quickly suit your purse and your ideas as 
to detail and bulk. The C. T. C. road books are -too vol¬ 
uminous and bulky to meet the needs of the American cy¬ 
clist who tours rapidly, and if he sticks to main-traveled 
roads, as ordinarily he will, they are by no means essential. 
It takes three bulky volumes to cover England and Wales 
alone. Doubtless they are very useful to English members 
touring out from home and back, wanting to vary their 
trips, but for American members a single small volume de¬ 
scribing the principal routes would be to my mind much 
more serviceable. An English road book did me so little 
good that after reaching France I relied wholly on the map, 
with the information given by landlords, always cheerfully 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


i°5 

and usually with accuracy. By the way, each T. C. F. hotel 
is supposed to have a map of its neighborhood, in detail, 
and if your own map is not on the large-scale you can use 
the hotel map each night to plan out the next day’s work. 
My own preference would be against getting any maps be¬ 
fore leaving home. A rough outline of the desired tour, 
with a list of the countries and larger places to be visited, is 
likely to be quite enough to decide on in advance. 

COMMENT ON COUNTRIES. 

GREAT BRITAIN. No customs duty on bicycles. 
Bicycle outfitting shops will be found in any of the ports at 
which the tourist may land. Liverpool, indeed, is held by 
some experienced travelers to be a better place than London 
for shopping. If you land at Queenstown for the Irish tour, 
go to Cork for what you may need. Ireland is wet; prepare 
for showers and steady rains. In those European countries 
in which the high ground is on the west side, more rain 
falls there than on the east side. Manchester has an average 
annual rainfall of .36 inches, where that of London is 25, 
Glasgow 44 and Edinburgh 38. In Scotland the wettest 
months are July and August, the worst time of the whole 
year being about the middle of August. In May east and 
west winds are equally common in Scotland; from June to 
August the proportion of west wind increases till it blows 
more than twice as often as the east wind. In England the 
prevailing winds are westerly, so that it is much easier to 
tour toward London from the west than to go west from 
London.^ The midland countries give the most level riding, 
and the fen country, from Cambridge to the sea, has few 
slopes. The southern coast is hilly, and for a tour through 
Devonshire and Cornwall stout legs are necessary. The 
Isle of Wight is about all up and down, yet a delightful spot. 
Wales, though mountainous, has a good deal of level road, 
with some long coasts that are exceedingly enjoyable. 
Crowded streets are the rule for some miles from the centre 
of London; avoid them if you choose by using the train, or 
if it suits your plans take a Thames steamboat up river as 
far as Kew, or down river where you will, being prepared to 


IOO 


GOING ABROAD? 


pay twice as much for the carriage of your bicycle as for 
that of yourself. If you push your wheel on a London side¬ 
walk, you are reasonably sure to get arrested. 

CHANNEL ISLANDS. No duty on bicycles. These 
islands are British possessions. The difference between their 
administration and that of England itself concerns the bicy¬ 
clist in but one particular, viz., the provision in Guernsey 
that every bicycle shall carry a number on a tin rectangle 
hung beneath the saddle, and a jingle bell. The hotel pro¬ 
prietor furnishes these at a cost of six cents for each bicycle. 
If there is a lav/ requiring the jingle bell in Jersey it is not 
enforced, and no numbers are required for tourists’ wheels. 
The riding on these islands is hilly, but the roads are good 
and the scenery is charming. They have very mild winters, 
and wheeling over them is attractive at any time of year. 

FRANCE. Duty, 220 francs for each 100 kilos,—about 
25 cents a pound. This duty is not collected from a member 
of the C. T. C. or the T. C. F. who accompanies his wheel 
and presents his ticket of membership for the current year at 
any seaport or frontier town. (For brevity’s sake I will not 
in each case repeat the statement that L. A. W. members 
have C. T. C. privileges when they have arranged therefor.) 
Wheelmen who are not club members may be required to 
pay the duty, usually $7 or $8, get a receipt for it, and col¬ 
lect it at the point where they may leave the dountry, but the 
law is not uniformly enforced. When the deposit is made a 
lead seal is attached to the bicycle, with the custom house 
mark stamped on it. Notice that in order to avoid the de¬ 
posit the club member must accompany his wheel, and he 
must present himself to the customs officers, not leaving the 
matter to anybody else. 

If I understand it aright, the French officials discrim¬ 
inate between the wheelmen entering the country for the 
first time in any given year, and the wheelman who is re¬ 
entering it. Whether Frenchmen or foreigner, club member 
or not, if you leave France with the intention of returning 
presently, you must have a lead seal attached to the bicycle 
as you cross the frontier in order to avoid the payment of 
duty when you return. 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


107 


Quite separate from the duty is the annual tax imposed 
on bicycles. All foreigners who declare at the port of entry 
that it is not their intention to remain in France more than 
three months are exempted from this tax. On payment of 
12 cents they get a certificate to this effect, which they must 
show on demand of any official; nottody ever asked to see 
mine. A C. T. C. membership ticket may be useful to back 
up an assertion that one is a tourist. 

The law requires a name plate on each bicycle. Lacking 
cne of metal, the tourist can make a visiting cafrd answer, or 
a plain card with name and address written ooi it, tied to the 
steering head. 

The roads of France, taken as a whole, are the best in 
the world, but this does not mean that it has no bad roads, 
or that from one end of the country to the other riding is of 
the cinder-track variety. In the macadam surface there is 
much flinty material, hard on tires, and the surface itself is 
often so worn that the stones give an incessant vibration, 
which sometimes make the American long for the layer of 
dust that forms a sort of cushion on the roads with which he 
is familiar. The main highways are military roads, often run¬ 
ning as straight as an arrow with utter disregard of hills and 
valleys, so that although long hills may not be met with more 
than twice a day, the slopes are almost continuous where the 
country is rolling. Many American roads and few French 
roads follow water courses; the rarity of brooks and ponds 
is noticeable to the New Englander. The great merit of the 
French road is its freedom from ruts, and its quick-drying 
properties. The fastest riding we did was in an hour on a 
French road begun when a heavy thunder shower had not 
wholly passed. 

Some of the highways out of Paris are paved with cobble 
stones for miles. The maps show which these are. Dodge 
them by taking the train to a surburban station; or where a 
steam tram makes it possible, put your wheel aboard and 
ride to the end -of the route. For ins-tance, much the best 
way to start down the Seine valley is to take the tram to St. 
Germain. 

Some tourists advocate taking the train to Paris from 


io8 


GOING ABROAD? 


Havre or Boulogne, or wherever one lands, if he has come 
direct from the States, on the ground tha,t the sea voyage 
has left him in poor condition to start touring at once, and 
that probably some outfitting in Paris will be desirable. Yet 
the road between Paris and the sea is charming. The beau¬ 
ties of the valley of the Seine would be as fam'ous as those 
of the Rhine or Thames if passenger steamers could ply 
between Rouen and the capitol. Brittany is more picturesque 
than Normandy. On the whole I enjoyed the valley of the 
Loire more than either. In Normandy and Brittany the 
usual breezes are from the west. On the other hand, we 
found a strong wind blowing down the Loire, from north¬ 
east to southwest, almost steadily for a month. From Paris, 
then, one would better go down the Loire to Angers or 
Nantes, and thence back along the northern Breton coast. 
In the Rhone valley is found the powerful and distressing 
wind known as the mistral, violent, dry, bitterly cold. It 
rages most in the winter, but at intervals through the rest of 
the year makes wheeling against it a painful task, for days at 
a time. So ride down the Rhone valley from Lyons, and as 
it is a northwest wind, try to plan your riding along the 
coast of Southern France and the Riviera from west to east. 

The region southwest of Paris is dull till you reach the 
Jura, and the prevailing winds there come from the direction 
of Switzerland. So if you start from Paris, unless you care 
to ride as far as Fontainebleau, better make by rail the whole 
distance to Diion or Macon. 

The best month for touring the Riviera is April; north¬ 
ern Normandy, May; southern Normandy and Touraine. 
September; Brittany is the coolest region you will find in 
France in mid-summer. It is undeniably hot in France in 
the middle of a summer day. The summer of 1899 was un¬ 
doubtedly exceptional, and perhaps in no other summer 
would we have gone through July and August without a sin¬ 
gle rainy day. but I am convinced that though a mid-sum¬ 
mer tour in France is far better than no tour at all, yet next 
time I would choose a cooler country for mid-summer riding. 

The small degree to which rain annoys the tourist in 
France may be judged from the following averages of the 


BICYCLE TOURINCx. 


109 


rainy days in Paris in each month of the last three years: 
January. 5: February, 5; March, 6; April, 8; May, 6; June, 
4; July. 3; August, 3: September, 2; October, 2; November, 
4; December. 4. 

BELGIUM. Duty on bicycles, 12 per cent, ad valorem. 
This will be returned to the tourisit on leaving the country 
if he crosses the frontier at a custom house and presents his 
receipt. Club members have concessions, but their condi¬ 
tions change so from time to time that perhaps when this is 
read, new regulations will be in force. The smallest steam¬ 
boats have the shrillest whistles, and little Belgium is very 
noisy when cyclists are concerned. At this writing mem¬ 
bers of the C. T. C. and T. C. F. are allowed to take their 
wheels into Belgium free on exhibition of membership card, 
which must bear a photograph of the member. No formality 
is requ’red of members in leaving the country. 

The man who pays the duty when he enters Belgium 
should give some forethought to his departure if he wants his 
money back without danger of delay. If he is to leave for 
Paris by rail, he would better write two or three days ahead 
to the custcyms official at Quevy or Erquelinnes (according 
to his route) and inform him as to which train he will use. 
The •official will stamp the receipt, and if he finds the wheel 
described in it in the baggage van, will refund the money 
without delay. It is better, however, to ride your wheel out 
of Belgium if you can do so without inconvenience. 

Belgium has many excellent roads, but it also has many 
miles of cobble stones. Its officials are apt to be officious, 
and taken altogether it is not one of the most attractive 
countries for bicyclists. 

HOLLAND. Duty, 5 per cent, ad valorem. Tourists 
enter without having to pay duty or make deposit, and no 
bo-ther need be apprehended. The brick-paved roads are 
criticized by some tourists, extolled by others; many of them 
are now provided with side-paths for bicycles. One is al¬ 
lowed to ride along the tow-paths of the canals, and as the 
country is as flat as a table, it is the lazy. wheelman’s Para¬ 
dise. Great elms shade many of the roads for miles. The 
Dutch Cycling Club has put up plentiful sign-posts, so that 


no 


GOING ABROAD? 


the complete ignorance of the language on the part of almost 
every foreigner is not likely to be troublesome. Some Eng¬ 
lish-speaking person will be found at most of the hotels, and 
•it is a language understood in most of the better shops. In 
the matter of living expenses be prepared to find it the cost¬ 
liest country on the Continent. Also be prepared for more 
danger of punctures by hob-nails than almost anywhere else, 
and for a good deal of wet weather. 

SWITZERLAND. Duty, 70 francs for each too kilos,— 
about six cents a pound. Members of the C. T. C. get relief 
from paying this by securing a special cycle ticket from the 
.Secretary, which must bear the member’s photograph, pre¬ 
ferably carte-de-visite s!ize. Members of the T. C. F. get the 
same relief by presenting their membership tickets, but these 
too must bear the photograph, countersigned by the mem¬ 
ber. No formality is required of club members on leaving 
the country. Bicyclists who are not club members get back 
the duty on departure by presenting the receipt to the cus¬ 
toms official at the frontier. 

The best time for wheeling in Switzerland is in June and 
the first fortnight in July. The days are then at their longest, 
—more of an advantage in mountainous than in flat countries. 
It is no longer cold, and yet the heat has not become op¬ 
pressive. The valleys of the Alps are hot in midsummer in 
the middle of the day, however cold may be the passes and 
the heights. Then, too, the landlords have not put their 
prices to top notch as they do after July 14, when the hordes 
of tourists come. Nor have the roads, freshly put in condi¬ 
tion, yet been cut up or made powdery by the diligence and 
the summer traffic. 

But Switzerland all through the summer is delightful, 
and strange as it may seem, the bicyclist, who better than 
anybody else appreciates the meaning of the phrase, “the 
ups and downs of life,” will find it one of the best touring 
grounds in Europe. Though Switzerland is all hills, there 
are many miles of fairly level road. Along Lake Lucerne, 
for instance, with Mt. Rigi on one side and Mt. Pilatus on 
the other, both rising sharp from the water’s edge, and the 
southern end of the lake so walled by heights that the road 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


iii 


has to be carried along by frequent tunnels, this road, the 
Axenstrasse, is nearly as level as the drives in Central Park. 
Around Lake Geneva, too, and up the Rhone valley the 
roads are surprisingly level. The Engadine, with beauties 
among the most remarkable in Europe, is traversed by a road 
60 miles long, at a mean altitude exceeding that of the lofti¬ 
est peak in Great Britain, yet with so little gradient that one 
can ride from end to end without dismounting. Though 
from the highest to the lowest point of the road you drop 
more than two thousand feet, yet the drop is so evenly dis¬ 
tributed over so many miles that you can ride from Martins- 
bruck in the Lower Engadine to Moloja in the Upper with¬ 
out difficulty. 

On the passes it is all up or all down, but as their roads 
were built with military purposes in view, and the grades had 
to be easy to permit the dragging of cannon over them, 
there are no pitches too steep to wheel down, as you repeat¬ 
edly find in an American mountain region. Some wheelmen 
maintain that it is actually easier to ascend an Alpine grade 
with a bicycle than without one,—that by throwing the 
weight forward on the handle bar, they can walk up a moun¬ 
tain faster than the unincumbered pedestrian. 

One rider reports that in making a Swiss tour he found 
his tires so thin he did not dare use the brake, so he bought 
a pine log about four feet long and eight or ten inches thick, 
into which he drove a nail so that he could drag it behind 
the bicycle by means of a cord nine or ten feet long, attached 
to the saddle post. This drag he found a great saving of 
strength on the down grades of three passes. 

Look out for the diligence in Switzerland. The driver 
thinks he owns the road and seems to have a spite against 
all wheelmen. His whip-lash is a more formidable weapon 
than any you can command, and it is the better part of valor 
to submit humbly to being crowded into the ditch. 

ITALY. Duty 42.60 lire,—about $8.22 on each bicycle. 
As for Switzerland, members of the C. T. C. get relief from 
paying this by securing a special cycle ticket from the Sec¬ 
retary; and members of the T. C. F. enter by simply show¬ 
ing usual membership ticket, the photograph on it not being 


GOING ABROAD? 


ii2 

absolutely necessary, but advised by the T. C. F. officials to 
guarantee identity. The Italian officials are the strictest on 
the Continent in the matter of bicycles, and it is weii to 
take precautions against trouble with them. No formality 
is required of T. C. F. members on leaving the country. 
Tourists who are not club members must deposit the duty, 
getting it back on departing. The leaden seal attached to 
the machine on entry should not be disturbed. 

Italian roads have as a rule good surface and poor 
grades. About Genoa, however, are some that are poor in 
every regard. From the Swiss passes to the Po, and thence 
to Venice or Florence is good riding, and so it is for the 
greater part of the way to Rome. But on the Campagna 
they deteriorate,- and then the farther south of Rome one 
gets, the worse the roads. In July and August Italian wheel¬ 
men rarely ride unless in the early morning or late after¬ 
noon, and tourists will find Italy decidedly hot in those 
months. The spring is far better, but the passes from 
Switzerland then have too much snow to be crossed with 
any comfort, and that beautiful first descent into Italy would 
be missed. So on the whole the autumn is the best time 
for a tour toward the Eternal City. In Southern Italy snow 
is so rare that touring might go on all through the winter. 

AUSTRIA-HUNGARY. Duty on bicycles imported 
for sale, 25 florins,—$12.06. Tourists deposit $10 at the cus¬ 
tom-house, refunded on departure; they are also required to 
9 wear to a declaration that the bicycle is not for sale and 
that it is their intention to remain only temporarily in Aus¬ 
tria. C. T. C. members get free entry on presentation of 
membership ticket with photograph attached, 'but must get 
the special cycle permit at the frontier, which permit must 
be discharged at the custom house where the cyclist leaves 
the country. The roads are excellent, and the Tyrol is an 
especially attractive region for a tour. 

GERMANY. Duty, 24 marks for each 100 kilos,—about 
three cents a pound. The bicycles brought by tourists are 
by law classed as “traveling effects,” and as such are exempt 
from duty when no doubt exists that the machine serves 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


113 

solely for the private and personal use of the tourist. It is 
rare that any trouble arises, but occasionally the duty is 
exacted on the Alsace-Lorraine frontier, and it will then be 
returned only on condition that the cyclist leaves the coun¬ 
try by the same custom-house as that by which he entered. 

German roads are excellent, but not up to those of 
France, on the whole. The roads in the Black Forest are to 
be particularly commended, adding much to the enjoyment 
of a region famous for its attractions. It does not get its 
name from being a continuous stretch of woodland, but from 
the dark, pine-covered mountains. Yet though mountainous, 
it has many miles of fairly level road, besides coasts of fabu¬ 
lous length. This district is about 50 by 100 miles, east and 
north of the upper Rhine, and may be well entered by way 
of Baden-Baden, Strassiburg, Freiburg, or Schaffhausen. It 
is a region where mid-day heat is less oppressive than on 
lower levels, the scenery is fine, and the hotels are both good 
and reasonable. The Hartz Mountains are less visited by 
foreign tourists, but are extolled by those who have entered 
them. They are said to have one coast 27 miles long that 
can be ridden without touching the feet to the pedals, yet 
with roadbed so good and slope so gentle that there is no 
danger of a spill. 

A favorite trip is from Rotterdam or Amsterdam up the 
Rhine Valley to Switzerland. The prevailing winds blow up 
the river, but are mot considerable enough to make essential 
difference. Perhaps they would be more than offset by the 
slight advantage in sliding down with the stream. 

DENMARK. Duty, 10 per cent, ad valorem. The C. 
T. C. announcement of customs arrangements says that “no 
duty is ever levied in Denmark on tourists’ cycles, but, on 
the contrary, every possible facility is offered with a view 
to encourage cyclists to travel in Denmark.” On the other 
hand, the T. C. F. book says: “Every traveler entering Den¬ 
mark with his bicycle must have a lead seal put on his ma¬ 
chine and pay the duty. Its return is made to him at the 
same custom-house, or in other custom-houses by virtue of 
a special authorization.” The country has good roads, 
plenty of daylight in summer, and comfortable hotels in all 


114 


GOING ABROAD? 


large towns. If one can escape the frequent showers, he 
will have a pleasant trip there. 

NORWAY. Duty, 30 kroner,—about $8.15. C. T. C. 
members are exempt, the Club being known to the Nor¬ 
wegian customs authorities as the “International Touring 
Club for Cyclists.” The T. C. F. does not report any ar¬ 
rangement with Norway. Other tourists have the money 
refunded on departure in the usual way. The roads are kept 
in excellent repair. The surface is a mixture of clay and 
sand, more elastic than macadam, but very sticky after rain. 

SWEDEN. Duty, 15 per cent, ad valorem. The C. T. 
C. and T. C. F. 'announcements as to the customs practice 
again differ. The C. T. C. says: “Used cycles belonging 
to tourists are allowed to enter duty free after examination 
by the customs, and on the signing in each case of <a declara¬ 
tion by the owner to the effect that the machine is imported 
for his own use and not for sale.” The T. C. F. says that 
the tourist must make a deposit of the duty, and that in es¬ 
timating this the packing, insurance and freight charges are 
taken into account. When the cyclist enters Sweden by way 
of Stockholm, Malmo, Landskrona, Helsingborg, Stonistad, 
Charlottenberg, or Storlim, there are no special formalities 
to be observed. If, however, he enters by any other customs 
bureau, a letter will have to be addressed to the director- 
general of the customs asking permission to enter. In order 
to have the deposit refunded in this case, the cyclist will 
have to leave the country by the port of entry. In other 
cases, the deposit will be refunded by the above-named cus¬ 
tom-houses. If the tourist remains more than sixty days, 
the deposit is forfeited. 

I have heard Scandinavia more highly extolled for bi¬ 
cycle touring than any other region in Europe. The length 
of the days, the coolness of the climate, the grandeur of 
much of the scenery, the hospitality and honesty of the 
people, the economy of expense,—all are considerations pre¬ 
sented for deciding the wheelman to visit the land of the 
Norseman. 

RUSSIA. Duty, 12 roubles, gold,—about $9.35. The C. 
T. C. book says that cyclists must deposit the duty, care 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


n 5 

being taken to state expressly that the money is being only 
deposited, and that the machine will be re-exported. This 
deposit is returned on leaving the country, but as the de¬ 
posit fund is kept totally distinct from the general fund in 
each custom-house, the deposit cannot be returned unless 
there is enough money on hand for that particular purpose. 
Fading this, the Chief of the custom-hoaise must apply to St 
Petersburg, and months may elapse before he is in a position 
to repay the money. In such a case the tourist should write to 
the British or American consul at St. Petersburg, asking him 
to get the deposit refunded. The T. C. F. book declares that 
instructions have been given by the Customs Department 
so that the formalities may be accomplished in an expedi¬ 
tious manner. That would certainly seem desirable. The 
fact is that Russia hampers the cyclist in a way that would be 
ludicrous were it not so annoying. For instance, the Rus¬ 
sian cyclist must qualify himself for a permit to ride, by 
passing an examination. He must carry two huge number 
plates so that he can be identified from either direction. He 
is liable to punishment if he rings his bell without need, and 
again to fine if he doesn’t ring it where there is need, and 
nothing but a bell is allowed for a signal. Cyclists together 
must ride in single file, at least 12 feet apart. And there are 
other regulations like these said to prevail in St. Petersburg 
that must make wheeling a burden to the native cyclist. 
Whether the foreigner is equally restricted, I don’t know, 
but I heard of one man who said money wouldn’t induce him 
to take a bicycle into Russia again. 

SPAIN. Duty, 70 pesetas per 100 kilos,—about six cents 
a pound. This must be deposited unless the cyclist can give 
as bail a well-known merchant or a frontier forwarding 
agent who will be responsible for him. The C. T. C. says 
the deposit will be refunded only at the same custom-house; 
the T. C. F. says it will be refunded at any custom-house. 
To lessen the bother of the many worrying formalities, it 
is wise to obtain the services of a commissionaire on the 
frontier, or an international custom-house broker at the 
frontier towns of Hendaye or Cerbere. If a mistake is made 
in the declaration, the amount of duty will be forfeited and 


GOING ABROAD? 


116 

a fine imposed. The main roads of Spain are good as a rule, 
though not so good as those of France and Italy. The 
American is not likdly to sufifer any indignities because of 
his nationality, but if he fears' them, let him pass as an Eng¬ 
lishman. It is a dry country, the average annual rainfall at 
Madrid being 9 inches against 45 in New York and Boston. 

OTHER COUNTRIES. So few American cyclists are 
likely to tour in other Eu-opean countries that numerous 
details about them need not be given. Some of the duties 
are: Portugal, 27 per cent, ad valorem; cyclist can get de¬ 
posit refunded at any frontier station; in some places, notably 
Lisbon, duty not enforced and cycles enter free. Roumania, 
$1.55 each, deposit refunded at any custom-house. Turkey, 
8 per cent, on entry, 2 per cent, on departure. Bulgaria, 14 
per cent, and 2 per cent additional for the octroi; duty will 
be refunded at any frontier station. Greece, octroi of 40 
cents and.a duty of $2; will be refunded less $1 for expenses 
and a small supplement if the cyclist does not leave the 
country by the same custom-house. Servia, 8 per cent, ad 
valorem, plus 7 per cent, on amount of duty so levied. 


EN ROUTE. 

In Great Britain the law of the road requires you to 
keep to the left on meeting anything going in the opposite 
direction, to pass on the right anything going in the same 
direction. In France and generally elsewhere on the Conti¬ 
nent the rule is as in the United States, keep to the right and 
pass to the left, but I understand that in Bohemia, in some 
parts of Holland, and in a few Italian cities, the rule is as in 
England. If you are on the wrong side, you can recover no 
damages in case of accident, but on the other hand are liable 
to pay them yourself. On meeting a led horse, go by on the 
side of the man in charge of him. Passing between two 
teams or bicycles is dangerous work, but the most dangerous 
thing of all is to cut close to a corner when you cannot see 
what may be coming around it. In Great Britain it is illegal 
to ride on any path set aside for foot passengers, under any 
circumstances; in France such a path may be used when the 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


117 


road is undergoing repairs or for some other reason is im¬ 
passable. 

Dangerous hills are marked in Great Britain and gener¬ 
ally throughout Central Europe by warning signs put up by 
the touring clubs. The T. C. F. alone has put up about 2,000 
of these. Both in England and France, however, an excess 
of caution has frequently put them at the top of hills down 
which any fairly skilful rider can easily ride. After being 
fooled two or three times, the American rider, man or 
woman, will usually refuse to dismount till the reason for it 
is palpable. 

Ride with the handle-bar high,—you are there to see, 
not to scorch. Take care of your wheel; its neglect may ruin 
your trip. Nowhere is the trite truth about the stitch in time 
saving nine more applicable than in bicycle touring. Note 
the first unusual click, jar, or creak, and locate the cause at 
cnee if you can. Sometimes after a long hunt you will find 
the squeak is nothing more serious than a whim of the saddle 
spring, but then again you will find it the sign of trouble that 
might become serious. On wet roads the flying particles of 
mud work into the chain and tighten it, sometimes beyond 
the breaking point. So when the chain gets to grinding 
and snapping, try loosening it a bit if you find it taut. Should 
the rivet of a link break, it can be temporarily mended with 
a bit of wire, well enough to get you to the next repair shop. 
If you lose a screw-driver or have none, a coin put in the slot 
of the screw and gripp'ed by the wrench will often serve. A 
nut or bolt that has stuck, can sometimes be started by 
warming i't a little, sometimes by applying hot vinegar. 
Other means failing, get as much oil on it as you can and let 
it soak for a few hours. Keep the bearings of your machine 
oiled. A drop of oil to each set of balls once every hundred 
miles is an easy rule to remember. Too much oil is almost 
as bad as too little, though to run dry balls is certainly bad 
enough. 

Better clean your wheel yourself unless you send it to a 
bicycle shop for that purpose. The ordinary hostler or 
“boots” knows nothing about a bicycle, and is as likely as 
not to wash it down as he would a carriage. At a very few 


GOING ABROAD? 


118 

hotels somebody will without your order clean your wheel 
in the hope of a fee, but usually it will not even be so much 
as wiped off if you arrive in the rain. If you care about the 
polish of the enamel, don’t scrape dried mud off the frame; 
soak it first with a damp sponge or cloth. If you want to 
give the chain a soak, you can buy a few cents’ worth of pe¬ 
troleum in any village; find an old can, coil the chain in the 
bottom of it, just cover it with petroleum, and the next 
morning the chain will be clean as a whistle, but you would 
better oil the rivets before using it. 

After using the pedal mount a long time, constant trouble 
with loosening cranks led me to go back to the step 'mount. 
Whether the trouble stopped because of the change in 
mounting, or because I got- a wheel with the cranks put on 
in the old way and the right way, I don’t know. If the pedal 
mount does strain the machine, it is just as well to use the 
step when touring. 

Each to his taste in the matter of the day’s work. My 
own preference on European roads when riding with men 
would be from 35 to 45 miles a day; with women, 20 to 35 
miles a day. One goes abroad chiefly for the pleasures of 
travel, not for the benefits of physical work, which though 
useful, should be subsidiary, to my mind. Yet many Ameri¬ 
cans whizz through Europe at the rate of from 50 to 70 miles 
a day, and say they like it. My own vote would go for eight 
miles an hour as the average speed, day in and day out, but 
if anybody wants to make it ten, the roads won’t stop him 
from doing it. 

The man who isn’t used.to exercise before breakfast, 
would be rash to start in on it at the outset of a tour where 
bad dyspepsia or a physical collapse would mean so much 
disappointment. All the hygienists say that any work direct¬ 
ly after eating is dangerous, but slow riding is not hard 
enough work to make a long rest essential after the usual 
Continental morning or mid-day meal. 

He who makes long distances can’t avoid riding in the 
middle of the day, but when the sun shines, he is sure to 
perspire then. Some men think they can accomplish the 
most and get the most enjoyment out of wheeling in the late 


BICYCLE TOURING. 


119 


afternoon, but for my part I like to get to a hotel in time to 
rest and clean up comfortably before dinner-time. There is 
great pleasure in wheeling in the long, cool English twi¬ 
lights of mid-summer. In the matter of wind, you will usu¬ 
ally find the evenings the best for wheeling everywhere. The 
force of the wind reaches its maximum ordinarily about two 
in the afternoon, being then on an average about twice as 
strong as it is in the early morning. 

The luggage problem is one that the tourist always has 
with him, and that’s the puzzle of it. One rule is to make a 
list of everything you think you must carry, and then leave 
out half of it. Every ounce counts. Some tourists carry ab¬ 
solutely nothing on their wheels, but have a bag meet them 
at every stopping place. One who was following this plan 
told me that in the morning he turned his bag over to the 
hotel porter with instructions to send it to such-and-such a 
place. At first he gave the name of the hotel where he 
meant to pass the night, but some annoyance led him to 
have the bag sent to the station. On arrival he sent t'he hotel 
porter for it, and averred that he got it regularly and speed¬ 
ily. The method is not costly, but I should be slow to put 
credence in its accuracy, and it has the “out” of making it 
necessary every morning to determine where one is to pass 
the night. Let a rain storm start in at noon with your des¬ 
tination 20 or 30 miles away and things are awkward if you 
are far from t'he railroad. But it certainly is a great comfort 
to have fresh clothes every evening, and .1 costume fit for 
theatre or anything else. 

My own plan has been to meet the bag once a week, but 
next time if any women were of the party, I should make it 
a trunk. 

. _ A few tourists, mostly youths, take only what can be car- 
r m on the wheel. This is feasible, but robs travel of many 
of the comforts and luxuries that seem to most of us worth 
the having. The laundry feature of the method is the most 
perplexing. Could one invariably get washing done in a few 
hours, the plan might be simple, but as a matter of fact that 
is not always practicable, and in some places the washer¬ 
women insist on two days. 


120 


GOING ABROAD? 


Provision against the extreme of hunger and thirst can 
and should be carried. Chocolate is perhaps the most por¬ 
table thing that will ward off the faintness 'of hunger. For 
thirst I have found the acidulated candies a relief, such as 
are sold here under the name of lime fruit tablets. Similar 
candies can be bought in any of the European cities, with the 
lime or lemon taste. Lemons themselves are to be had in 
about every town, and their juice is excellent in making 
tepid water palatable. In these days of microbe-mania it 
would be unfashionable not to advise against the promiscu¬ 
ous drinking of water, but nevertheless I will hazard the 
theory that a healthy person doing the physical work of a 
rational bicycle tour is not in a condition to fall a quick prey 
to the omnipresent bacillus. For my own part I am reckless 
enough to drink anything that is drinkable. Cold water is a 
rarity on the road in England and France. He who well 
thinks that on a bicycle tour alcoholic beverages should not 
be used before dinner-time, if at all, can in Gr^at Britain 
buy ginger beer or ginger ale at every village grocery, and 
on the Continent he can get for a few cents at any cafe a bot¬ 
tle of aerated water, soda water, eau de Seitz, or whatever you 
choose to call it. But let him not run away with the idea 
that aerating water makes it innocuous; the carbonic acid 
gas with which iit is charged does not rob it of any of its 
impurities, and abroad much less than with us is it the cus¬ 
tom to filter or boil or distill water that is to be charged. 
The notion that a dash of brandy in a glass of water robs it 
of its unwholesomeness, is a fallacy. 

Soda fountains are rare in the big cities and unknown 
elsewhere, but one gets the same result, though less palatable, 
by calling for the “eau de seltz” and sirop, either mixing it to 
suit his taste or letting the waiter mix it before him.. ,Jn 
Great Britain if you call for lemonade, you will get botfei&l 
stuff that will make an American sad. But call for a “lemon 
squash” and you will get the real article. In France make 
your order “citron au naturel,” when you will probably get a 
lemon, a squeezer, the soda water siphon, and the sugar. 
One seldom rides a half hour without the chance to get wine 
or beer at some wayside inn or cafe, but neither of then* 


BICYCLE TOURING. I2l 

quenches the bicyclist’s thirst like sour drinks. Much drink 
ing\ much perspiration. Resolve every morning not to take 
to drink so early that day as you did the day before. Chew¬ 
ing a straw may help you to resist temptation; it provokes a 
flow of saliva and lessens the misery of intense thirst. 

To gratify at once the desire to get at the soda water 
siphon at the end of the day’s work may serve a secondary 
purpose worth considering if you are not a steady patronizer 
of touring club hotels or if you have two or three of them to 
choose between. I am indebted to Mr. Stetson’s narrative 
for th'e suggestion and he appears to have made frequent and 
profitable use of the scheme in Switzerland and Northern 
Italy. He and his friends would ride up to a good-looking 
cafe and dismount as if they had no intention whatever or 
staying there, but had stopped for a drink. While circulating 
the siphon, they would casually ask the waiter if he had any 
rooms to let. Forthwith the landlord or landlady would 
come cut with the most alluring terms, fearing the party 
would ride away. Thus they daily settled the matter of 
lodging without bother, embarrassment or haggling, and on 
the most thrifty basis possible. Once by reason of rain they 
arrived at an Italian hotel in the hotel omnibus from the 
station. The manager offered them miserable rooms at a 
price far above what they had been paying. They left the 
place in disgust and speedily found far better rooms at half 
the price. 

In Great Britain, no matter at what hour of the day or 
night the traveler asks for admission, the landlord, if he has 
accommodation to spare, must admit him. The onlly ground 
on which he is entitled to refuse to receive a traveler is, that 
he is drunk and disorderly, a person of notoriously bad char¬ 
acter, or is suffering from an infectious disease. On the 
other hand, to come within the category of “a traveler,” the 
cyclist must have slept at least three miles from the inn on 
the previous night. If a cyclist be turned away from the 
doors of an inn or hotel for any other reason except lack of 
accommodation, he is entitled to bring an action for dam¬ 
ages for any injury he may sustain by such a refusal. He 
must, however, be able to prove specific damage, either by 


122 


GOING ABROAD? 


illness to himself or injury to his machine consequent on the 
refusal. An inn-keeper is liable to compensate the cyclist up 
to a maximum of $150 for a machine stolen or damaged, pro¬ 
vided that it 'has been given into the charge of a servant of 
the inn. All these rules apply in an equal degree to the tem¬ 
perance hotel. Against these facts must be placed the section 
of the law which provides that in case a cyclist refuses, or is 
unable to pay his bill, the landlord may detain his machine 
as security; and if, after six weeks, the account is still un¬ 
settled, he may sell it after advertising the intended sale in a 
London and a local newspaper. Out of the proceeds he is 
entitled to the amount of the bill and the cost of the sale. 

TRANSPORTATION OF BICYCLES. 

By common agreement the trans-Atlantic steamship lines 
charge $2.50 for carrying a bicycle across. It is announced 
that the wheels must be crated, and perhaps on some lines 
the rule is always enforced, but the chances are that on the 
freight boats you can have your wheel taken across without 
crating if you so desire. One can save the cost of crating and 
the transportation fee as well, and at the same time guard the 
wheel perfectly against both rust and breakage, by taking it 
apart and packing it with excelsior or clothing in a large 
trunk, which will go free in the hold. If the wheel is not thus 
packed, whether it goes crated or not, the bright parts should 
be rubbed over with vaseline to prevent rust. 

If you purpose wheeling as soon as you land, have the 
wheel brought on deck the day before you are to go ashore, 
and get it into shape. You will have no better chance. 

If you are to return from the same port, your crate will 
be stored for you on the pier. In that case it may be well to 
have the crate put together with screws instead of nails. Or 
you may have crate and all sent to a bicycle shop in Liver¬ 
pool or Southampton or wherever it may be. The charge 
will probably be a dollar for uncrating and putting the wheel 
in shape to ride; another dollar for crating when you return. 

Should you plan starting from London, it will be better 
not to uncrate on board the boat or at the landing port, but 
to have the wheel go with you in its crate. But if you land 


BICYCLE TOURING. 123 

at Boulogne or Havre and plan to make the start from Paris, 
you may save some expense by getting rid of the crate before 
you take the train. 

A well-made crate, with one side hinged and padlocked, 
may serve for transportation of the bicycle by rail. Or a 
wicker basket frame can be bought in England or France 
for from $5 to $10. Or for $25 you may buy a bicycle trunk, 
a huge, clumsy affair that the tourist in a hurry will shun. 
With trunk, basket or crate the handle-bar must be removed, 
and ordinarily the pedals and saddle. This means a dis¬ 
tressing waste of time in replacing and adjustment. 

In England the usual railway charge for carrying a 
bicycle is 12 cents for a distance not exceeding 12 miles; 25 
miles, 18 cents; 50 miles, 24 cents; 75 miles, 36 cents; 100 
miles, 48 cents, and then 12 cents more for every 50 miles. 
This often makes the cost for short distances half as much 
as the third class passenger fare, and is an outrage of the 
same quality as that found in the more benighted of the 
American States. 

France has taken the lead of the world in this matter of 
justice to bicyclists and benefit to the railway treasuries, for 
to carry bicjcles free redounds to the financial advantage of 
the railway in the long run. By ministerial decree no French 
railway can make any charge for uncrated bicycles accom¬ 
panied by the owner except a fee of two cents for registra¬ 
tion, i. e., what we call checking, the only difference being 
that one gets a paper slip instead of a brass 'tag. I under¬ 
stand that in France if your wheel is crated and you have 
other than hand-luggage, all that is to go in the baggage 
car is weighed together, wheel included, and if the total is in 
excess of the 66 pounds free, you pay the excess baggage 
charge. If the wheel is sent unaccompanied, the usual freight 
or express tariffs apply. 

In Germany the railway fee for bicycles is half a mark, 
12 cents, no matter what the distance. They are not admitted 
on express trains. In Belgium bicycles are carried as bag¬ 
gage, with the usual charges, when not crated; if crated they 
go at the rates of other merchandise. In Italy the railroads 
will not be responsible for damage to bicycles not crated. As 


GOING ABROAD? 


124 

a rule, on the Continent outside France and Germany the 
customary baggage charges extend to bicycles. In Italy the 
railroads will not be responsible for damage to bicycles not 
crated. In England if the wheel goes at the Company’s risk, 
25 per cent, is added to the fee when the owner accompanies 
the wheel: for forwarding an unaccompanied wheel, 33 per 
cent, more is charged if it is to go at the Company’s risk than 
if at the owner’s risk. 

After you have paid the exorbitant cost of a bicycle ticket 
on an English railway and have turned over the wheel to the 
baggage man, he always acts a request for a tip for himself, 
and if you overlook it, is likely to hunt you up in the train 
and smilingly inform you that the wheel has been put on 
board safellv. The railroad having swindled you, the porter 
is not likely to meet with a cheerful reception; you are under 
no obligation to tip him unless you see fit. In France, where 
the road charges nothing, the railway people seem to expect 
nothing, but perhaps the wheel will be put aboard with more 
care if you produce a few cents. Anyhow, both in France 
and England it is wiser to put the machine on the car with 
your own hands. At the end of the journey it is equally wise 
to get your wheel yourself as it is handed from the car. In 
England half the time you will get into the car and help your¬ 
self. 

American tourists who take their own wheels abroad will 
have no question raised at the custom-house on their return, 
unless perchance they have taken an English wheel with them. 
In such rare cases it would be well to forestall objection bv 
getting the wheel registered at the custom-house before de¬ 
parture. A bicycle bought abroad can be brought in free 
only in case the owner has used it a year. So the law says, 
and perhaps it is enforced, but no case of it has come to my 
attention. 

The Canadian duties may bother somewhat a tourist 
going from the United States by one of the Canadian lines. 
L. A. W. members avoid the payment of Canadian duties by 
complying with certain formalities, but I should think the 
easiest way would be to express the wheel in bond to the 
steamship. 


CHAPTER VI. 


HOW TO STAY. 

European hotels are in the main supported by tourists. 
Contrasted with hotels of the same class here, the foreign 
hotel excels in cooking, comfort, and economy ; the Ameri¬ 
can hotel excels in elegance, formality, and pretension. 
Europe has almost no hotels that will approach the more 
gorgeous of the new caravanseries of New York, Boston, 
and Chicago in furniture, decorations, and general sumptu¬ 
ousness; and few American hotels set as good a table, judged 
by quality, not quantity, as you may find in nearly every city 
on the Continent. In almost every respect the hotels of 
such places as Geneva, Florence, Lyons, Brussels and Am¬ 
sterdam are far superior to those in cities of corresponding 
population on this side of the water. Our village taverns 
do not begin to equal those of Europe in cleanliness, cooking, 
and all the essentials of comfort. 

No, not all, for from the tenement house to the palatial 
villa we are far ahead of Europe in two very important ele¬ 
ments of comfort — lighting and heating. Of late years the 
electric light has come into use in many hotels, particularly in 
Switzerland, but is not yet the rule in smaller places elsewhere. 
The candle is still the common illuminant for chambers, both 
in public and private houses. Indeed, the European thinks the 
hotel is a house, to be used as much like a dwelling as possible. 
It has its living rooms, its parlors, its dining and smoking 
rooms, and the notion that with these at hand anybody can 
want to occupy a chamber, except for the time of sleeping and 
dressing, seems to the European absurd. His ancestors went 
to bed by candle-light and all his neighbors go to bed by 
candle-light, and why shouldn’t the American ? If he wants to 
read, let him sit in the parlor; if he wants to get warm, let him 

125 


GOING ABROAD? 


126 

come into the public rooms, always well warmed. And 
if he prefers the privacy of his chamber, let him pay 
the extra cost of lighting and heating it. To be sure, the 
public parlors are not always commodious or attractive, are 
usually inferior to those of our hotels, and ladies’ parlors 
are rare in hotels not designed for summer tourists, notably 
those of Austria, but the European system contemplate.' 
private parlors, suites of rooms, and the guest who cannot 
afford them is not supposed to be in a position to find iauit. 

The system of payment galls the American. He has 
been brought up on the plan of paying a lump sum for his 
living, so much a day or week,*with about everything thrown 
in. On the contrary, the European tendency is to itemize 
everything. On this side the water, the broad spirit of gen¬ 
erosity; on the other, the wise spirit of thrift. 

When the European landlord says his price is so much a 
day, he means to include, roughly speaking, only the com¬ 
mon commodities of his trade,—a bed, a roof, food, and the 
public rooms. 

Viewed in this light, the charges are not so extortionate 
as many travelers represent them to be. If in the States a 
man pays in the lump $4 for what costs him the same abroad, 
paid for piece-meal, he has no right to complain. Rather 
may the foreigner justly complain when he comes here and 
finds the lump sum price includes many things he does not 
want, and does not use. For example, that matter of gas. 
The American landlord must charge his guests the average 
cost of the gas they burn. May not the foreigner, accus¬ 
tomed to pass but a short waking time in his chamber, com¬ 
plain at paying his share of the light consumed by the poker 
party next door? He prefers to carry his own soap; why 
should he pay the average cost of the soap consumed in that 
hotel? A trivial thing, you say, but remember the foreigner 
has learned the lesson that the cost of living is made up of 
little things, and that to be thrifty prosperously he must be 
thrifty in little things. The European charge for soap has been 
the butt of American ridicule ever since Americans began to 
travel abroad, and yet no American has ever explained why 
it is more incumbent on a landlord to furnish soap to his 


HOW TO STAY. 


127 

guests than to furnish tooth-powder. To ridicule the custom 
of a country in such matters is to argue one’s own conceit, 
to arrogate a superiority that calm consideration may be far 
from justifying. 

Our tendency is surely toward the European system 
rather than away from it. Restaurants on “the American 
plan,” erroneously so-called, no longer flourish in any of our 
large cities; nearly every hotel of consequence in the cities 
has at least one room where you can order a la carte. And 
the fee system has secured so strong a hold in our hotels 
and our sleeping cars that we must admit Americans no 
longer have an unconquerable aversion to paying the servant 
and the employer separately. 

On the other hand, the European tendency is in our di¬ 
rection. Every year sees fewer hotels making an extra 
charge in the bills for attendance and lights. Doubtless in 
time there will come to be a nearly uniform practice on both 
sides of the water, combining the best features of both 
systems. 

IN EUROPEAN HOTELS. 

But in the method of managing hotels, neither party 
seems disposed to yield. The portier, unknown in America, 
still reigns supreme on the Continent; the clerk, unknown 
abroad, still rules the American hostelry. 

The portier is not a porter, in our sense of the term, 
though the name is commonly thus translated, for the sake 
of convenience and from the want of any English word to 
describe his functions. He resembles the American Manager 
in everything except managing; the American Clerk in 
everything except clerking. He welcomes the coining, 
speeds the parting guest; at least in the smaller hotels he 
dickers with you about your rooms; often he sees that you 
get your bill; he hears all your complaints, and attends to 
them; he speaks your language, and several others; he tells 
you where to go and how to get there; he is a polyglot 
encyclopedia; he out-Chesterfields Chesterfield, a^d his ur¬ 
banity is never-failing. It is worth going abroad just to find 
out that a hotel man can come in constant contact with the 


128 


GOING ABROAD? . 

public and yet remember courtesy,— indeed, be more than 
courteous, good-natured. 

England has no word for portier because it has no por- 
tier. There the hotel guest finds girls to show him the 
rooms and arrange about the price, and they do most of the 
work of the American hotel clerk. 

On the Continent the head-waiter ranks next in impor¬ 
tance to the portier, and between meals often aids him. Tell 
the head-waiter when you are going to leave and he brings 
the bill, takes the money, and delivers the change, for the 
purpose, of course, that you may not forget the waiters 
when you give your fees. 

The landlord himself you seldom see, or at least seldom 
address; he stays behind the scenes. 

Elevators, always called “lifts” on the other side of the 
water when named in English, “ascenseurs” in French, are 
found in none but the first-class hotels, and often not in 
them. Indeed, in some countries the possession of a “lift” 
is so rare that it is made prominent in the advertisements. 
Unless you are an invalid or infirm, you are expected not to 
use it for the descent, but to walk. It is usually slow and 
badly attended. 

Plumbing in the hotels is not equal to ours of today, 
but is as good as our hotels would average twenty years 
ago. It would not be rash to assert that it produces fewer 
cases of typhoid fever than the plumbing of our summer 
hotels. In this matter and in that of vermin, the prevalent 
notion in America about European discomforts is all wrong. 
Go where travelers ordinarily go and neither your nostrils 
nor your antipathies to insects will ever bear testimony 
against European habits in public houses. Sleep in a Swiss 
chalet and you are likely to get acquainted with the festive 
flea, just the same kind of a flea that I have felt in Cape 
Breton farm houses and Maine lumber camps. And I have 
;een more inhabitants in a berth of a Canadian steamer than 
during a European journey of many months. In this regard 
many of the country hotels of New England are worse off 
ffian even the lower grade of European hotels. 

Though there are many poor people with cleanly habits, 


129 


HOW TO STAY. 

the fact remains that as a rule poverty and filth are warm 
friends, and wherever the poor are numerous, vermin 
abound. It is doubtful if vermin are less abundant in the 
older of our large cities than in those of the Old World, 
except as we may have a smaller rroportion of the very poor. 
Vermin are good travelers; they sometimes get into the 
cleanest house, into the most elegant hotel, on this side of 
the water as well as the other. But European landlords 
fight them as earnestly as do American landlords, and with 
nearly as much success. 

Cleanliness, too, is just as common in all food matters. 

AS TO HOTEL. BILLS. 

The best hotels in the large cities and at the fashionable 
resorts on the Continent as a rule charge i l / 2 francs for 
breakfast (cafe an lait), 4 francs for luncheon (dejeuner a 
la fourchette), 5 francs for dinner (table d'hote), and from 4 
francs up for room, lights, and attendance. Call the room 
5 francs, and in figuring allow for the fact that the franc is 
worth a little less than 20 cents. This makes a total of 
almost exactly $3 a day, to which 10 per cent, is to be 
added for fees, making the total $3.30. A tew hotels will 
charge 6 francs for dinner, but on the other hand, many 
charge but 3 or tf/z francs for luncheon. In Paris and one 
or two of the other cities you can pay 10, 20, 30 or even 
more francs for a room, but taking the Continent through, 
5 francs is a fair allowance for a good room in a first-class 
hotel. It might be safe to count on a hotel bill of from 
$3.50 to $4 a day for what would be styled as first-class in 
Paris, Berlin, or Vienna, but the foregoing figures are the 
average of a tour taking in 15 or 20 large cities and resorts. 

For actual figures of traveling on the Continent where 
the costliest hotel was not chosen in the large cities, let me 
refer to Bean, who is a crank on statistics, brought back 
all his bills, and spent a week in making additions and 
averages. The count showed that he had passed 61 nights 
in 46 hotels,— 15 in Italy, 10 in Switzerland, 6 in Spain, 6 in 
Germany, 5 in France, 3 in Holland and 1 in Belgium,— 
surely a representative list; 25 were the best hotels in the 


130 


GOING ABROAD? 


place, and the rest were as a rule smaller and quieter 'but not 
less comfortable than the costliest, and all were starred by 
Baedeker, who confers this honor on no hotels that are not 
clean and comfortable. All varieties of rooms were occupied, 
from the best in the house to rooms on the fourth floor, but 
the average was about what would be given to the careful 
traveler who seeks comfort and has no ambition to pay for 
elegance. 

The six Spanish hotels, in each case the best in the place, 
rendered the bills by the day, showing an average charge of 
$2.48; fees took $0.17; total, $2.65. 

In the other countries itemized bills were the rule, and 
in Spain there were enough charges, for parts of days to 
make possible an average by the item for all the 46 hotels 
used. The result was as follows: Room, $0.67; Cafe (Break¬ 
fast), $0.27; Dejeuner (Luncheon), $0.56; Table d’hote (Din¬ 
ner), $0.75; Fees, $0.15; total, $2.40. Six of the hotels 
charged separately for service, but as this is properly part of 
cost of room, it has been treated as such. Nine made extra 
charge for lights, but as Bean carried his own candles, he 
had every such charge taken off the bill save in one place, 
where he had to pay a franc for having an electric light in 
hi's room whether he used it or not. He found out, how r - 
ever, that the average cost for lights in these hotels was 
$0.09. The landlord occassionally tries to bleed the tourist 
by putting fresh candles in the room every day, even if those 
of the night before haven’t been burned a quarter of an 
inch, but usually if a candle lasts a week, the tourist pays for 
it only once. Though four-fifths of the hotels now make 
no separate charge for lights, it is still worth while carrying 
one’s own candle-stick, and Bean says he fears he might 
have been charged for candles more frequently if bn en¬ 
gaging his room he had not a:lways asked whether lights 
were included in its price. 

The table d’hote (course 'dinner) was found in nearly all 
those hotels, but in 14 of them Bean ordered a la carte, 
arriving too late for the regular dinner or preferring the 
quicker and lighter meal. The cost averaged 42 cents, but 
as two persons ate together they could combine their orders 


HOW TO STAY. 


131 

with an economy impossible to the solitary tourist, who could 
hardly dine alone in the Continental hotels, a la carte, for 
an average expenditure of less than 60 or 70 cents a meal. 

Another uncertain item of expense is that incurred for 
wine. Water is always obtainable; ice can frequently be had, 
but sometimes in Southern Europe there is an extra charge 
of three or four cents for a bowl of it. So far as Americans 
drink wine through fear # of the water, their action is unrea¬ 
sonable, but of course if they drink it from preference, it is 
nobody’s business. If they are content to drink such wines 
as the well-to-do natives use at table, the cost need not 
average more than 20 cents a day, for a quart bottle will 
suffice one person three or four meals, provided the wine is 
diluted as the natives dilute it, and is used as a beverage, 
not as a stimulant. Bean once dwelt with a French family 
for several months, and never saw either host or hostess 
drink more than two glasses of mixed wine and water at any 
one repast. The dilution is not from motives of economy, 
but because it improves the ordinary wine of the country to 
put some water with it. Wine is never taken with the morn¬ 
ing meal, when the beverage is always coffee, tea, or choco¬ 
late. 

Dining and lunching at the cafes ordinarily frequented 
by tourists is less expensive than in the hotel restaurants. 
One must have a good knowledge of localities and language 
to live in restaurants as economically abroad as at home, 
with the same quality and quantity of food, but it can be 
done. 

In the cost of hotel living must be included the laundry 
bills, which of course vary much, according to the personal 
habits of the tourist. From 5 to 10 cents a day may be 
added to cover this. 

Bean concluded, then, that it is safe for a careful traveler 
to calculate on $2.50 a day as the cost of living in the or¬ 
dinary Continental hotels, without wine, or $2.70 with wine. 
(In a few hotels vin ordinaire, the wine of the country, is 
served without extra charge.) There are many places where 
one can live cheaper, but this is the average that may be 
counted on by a tourist who covers a good deal of ground. 


I3 2 going abroad? 

The cost for husband and wife will be just double, for 
rooms are charged by the bed, assuming single beds, for that 
is the almost invariable practice of sleeping abroad. In some 
hotels a double bed can easily be had, but as a rule single 
beds are used. Whether a couple have a room with two single 
beds, or a room with a double bed, or two rooms with single 
beds, the cost will be the. same. And by the way, where the 
stay will be long enough to make it worth while, a couple 
can get more conlfort by securing two connecting single- 
bedded rooms, having both beds put in one room, and using 
the other for a sitting-room. But usually hotel chambers 
are so large that a double-bedded room (which means a room 
with two single beds) gives husband and wife plenty of 
accommodation. 

Thomas Cook & Son issue what they call hotel coupons, 
which are accepted by landlords of hotels of the first rank in 
about every European city. As a convenient way of paying 
hotel bills they have their merits, but economy is not the 
greatest of them and it is not claimed. On the other hand, 
their use does not increase the expense of travel to any con* 
siderable degree, and some tourists will surely find them money 
savers. 

Cook asks $2 50 for coupons entitling the bearer to what 
we should call room, breakfast, luncheon, and dinner. 

A company that issued similar coupons for $2.40 said they 
had this value: Room, lights, and service, $0.70; plain break¬ 
fast (coffee and rolls), $0.30; dejeuner (luncheon), or meat 
breakfast, $0.60; table d’hote, $0.80. Fees are not included, 
and though some Americans using coupons do not give fees, 
they are expected. If they are not given, unpleasant episodes 
may be expected now and then. 

It will be seen that this is in excess of what Bean 
averaged to pay, as follows: Room, 3 cents; cafe, 3 cents; 
dejeuner, 4 cents; table d’hote, 5 cents; total, 15 cents. Not 
very much, but amounting to something when three or four 
people are traveling for several months. Bean insists that 
he averaged to get better rooms than his friends who used 
coupons, but on the other hand they sometimes went to 
better hotels. It stands to reason that in spite of any agree- 


HOW TO STAY. 


133 


ment to the contrary, landlords will give somewhat better 
treatment to the man who pays them cash than to him who 
gives them a coupon of the same nominal value, but on which 
they must allow the middleman a profit. 

It is a rare landlord who can afford to refuse the coupon 
arrangement, for the Cook and Son Lists of coupon hotels 
are much used by tourists who do not buy coupons, but feel 
sure that a coupon hotel will be respectable. So it is cheaper 
to use coupons than to pay cash at some of the high-priced 
hotels. Perhaps the thrifty traveler who does not object to 
dickering does best by carrying coupons with him and using 
them when he cannot make a better cash bargain. This 
should be determined in advance, however, and not delayed 
till the bill is presented, for commonly the landlord wants to 
know when you engage the rooms whether you mean to 
pay with coupon or cash, and if you wait till the bill is 
brought, you may have an unpleasant quarter of an hour 
and get your coupons refused or most disagreeably ac¬ 
cepted. 

Indeed, all hotel terms should be fixed before you take 
possession of the room. This comes hard to the American 
accustomed to demand of a hotel clerk the best room in the 
house, without asking the price, but it is the only safe thing 
to do abroad. The portier expects it and does not make you 
feel cheap if you do it. Half the time if you follow up the 
first question with, “Haven’t you something cheaper?” you 
will get just as good a room for less money. The price 
varies according to which floor the room is on, and to its 
exposure, there being slight difference in furnishings or size. 
When the stay is to be for a single night, the person who 
is in good health and whose purse is not bottomless, would 
be held foolish by some people if he declined to save a franc 
by walking up another flight of stairs. 

Here, as everywhere, don’t think that lavish expenditure 
does you any good abroad. The European views economy 
as the normal, natural, reasonable thing; he respects it and 
he aids it. While trying to make all they can out lof you, 
the people with whom you come in contact will do all they 


134 


GOING ABROAD? 


can to help you to save money,—a paradox that perhaps you 
will not believe till you have tried it. 

In Great Britain hotels are more cosdy than on the Con¬ 
tinent, by about a fifth. “Attendance” is charged separately 
more frequently than on the Continent, and may cost half as 
much as the room, so that on inquiring the room-charge at 
an English hotel, it will be well to find out about the “attend¬ 
ance” at the same time. Several palatial hotels rivalling those 
of New York in fittings and furnishings have been built in 
London of late years, and the rich American may there dis¬ 
port himself as luxuriously as he pleases. It is about as hard 
as ever, though, to find a table in London equal to that 
served in scores of hotels across the Channel. The odd thing 
about it is that the staff of the large English hotel is nearly 
all foreign-born. Somehow the French and Swiss and Ger¬ 
man hotel people lose their mastery of the gastronomic art 
when they get into the fogs of London. 

Many of the larger English hotels are owned by the rail¬ 
way companies and attached to their stations. This does not 
keep them from being clean and comparatively quliet. They 
are often a convenience to the hasty traveler, and their prices 
are by no means excessive. On the other hand, the prices 
of the small hotels in London, at least, taking the accommo¬ 
dations and service into account, often seem most unreason¬ 
able to 'the tourist who has just come from the Continent. 

The “temperance” hotels in Great Britain are none the 
more and none the less comfortable because they do not sell 
liquor. The English bar-room lacks most of the offensive 
features that make the American bar-room a nuisance. The 
landlady or a trim barmaid tones it up somewhat, and at 
least in the towns it is a place for social intercourse rather 
than hilarious revelry. So the “temperance” feature of an 
English hotel is of slight significance. 

English hotel charges lead those of the Continent more in 
the matter of breakfast than in any other particular, being 
just twice as large. In England breakfast is a hearty meal, 
more hearty, I think, than is usual even in the United States. 
If the traveler keeps up the practice after crossing the Chan¬ 
nel, if only to the extent of adding an egg or two to the 


HOW TO STAY. 


135 

coffee and roll, he will have to put from 10 to 25 cents on the 
estimates of Continental expenses previously given. In Hol¬ 
land, however, he will find the British custom prevalent, and 
will pay for beginning the day with plenty of fuel. The 
Dutch hotels cost nearly as much as those of England, and in 
other ways living is more costly in Holland than elsewhere 
on the Continent. 

Italian hotels are the cheapest, and to live in them need 
not average to cost much over $2.25 a day, even when stops 
are made for but a single night. In the Far East, from Cairo 
round to Athens, the expense will vary from $2.60 to $3.25 a 
day. 

About French hotels and their prices I have already said 
something in the chapter on Bicycle Touring. It should be 
added that outside the big cities the portier is not a common 
functionary, the work of dealing with guests being ordinarily 
in the hands of women, as in England. The portier is every¬ 
where on the main line of Continental tourist travel, but it is 
a singular fact that, though Paris is the social centre of the 
wotM, entertaining nearly a million visitors a year, other 
French places entertain comparatively few, and away from 
the Riviera there are almost no hotels where the polyglot 
porter is an essential. Do not expect, therefore, to find cos¬ 
mopolitan 'hotel features if you journey through the towns 
along the Loire or in Brittany. 

The cost in Germany may be summarized by saying that 
the full payment for a good front single room in a first-class 
hotel may be set down as 72 cents (the best room costing as 
high as $2.40, or even more); attendance, 16 cents; candle, 12 
cents; morning coffee, 28 cents; table d’hote at mid-day, 84 
cents, without wine; evening meals at discretion, a la carte; 
while at a humbler inn or in a country town, the room would 
probably cost 36 cents; attendance and candle, 12 cents; 
coffee, 16 cents; and table d'hote, 64 cents, including a small 
bottle of country wine. Until lately it has been the invariable 
custom in German hotels to have the heavy meal of the day 
at noon, and many a traveler has complained bitterly a't the 
consequent waste of two or three hours of daylight, but now 
on the tracks well beaten by tourists, many hotels have the 


136 


GOING ABROAD? 


table d'hote at evening. As elsewhere, much better rates can 
be secured, in advance, if the traveler intends to stay several 
days. As a rule the hotel tariffs are to be found posted in every 
bed-room, and furthermore the German inn-keepers occupy 
a higher social position than in most Other countries, making 
them more trustworthy; therefore, it is not so important in 
Germany as elsewhere to ascertain all prices beforehand, but 
the careful tourist will do it nevertheless. To the American 
the most provoking feature of German domestic economy is 
the feather-bed, under which he is expected to sleep. Along 
the Rhine, where tourists are the mainstay of the hotels, he 
may not meet it, but let him get into the heart of Germany, 
into hotels patronized chiefly by Germans, and he will find 
plenty of chance to learn the art of sleeping under feathers. 
Usually, though, a counterpane or blankets can be had by 
applying to the chambermaid. 

In Switzerland prices do not begin to attain the altitudes 
we expect in the hotels of any American mountain region. 
Computing large and small just as they come in the lists pub¬ 
lished by the Association of Swiss Hotel Proprietors, it 
would appear that taking the country through the average 
daily charge ranges from $1.57 to $2.04, according to the 
room, for hotels that maintain the same price the year round. 
Very many of the resort hotels, however, either are open only 
in the summer or else raise t/heir prices in the busiest season, 
for six or eight weeks in mid-summer, some beginning the 
higher rates July 1, others July 15. At this time the average 
for large and small that raise rates ranges from $1.95 to $2.45 
a day, according to the room; for boarders, $1.30 to $2 a day, 
some hotels giving these rates to any one staying ait least five 
days, others requiring a week. As a rule, the most expensive 
high altitude hotels are over lakes and the least expensive 
among the mountains and glaciers, away from the track of 
the diligence. Notwithstanding the difficulty of procuring 
provisions and the shortness of the season, the mountain 
house is enabled, by having practically no ground rent to 
pay, to charge less and yet make a reasonable profit. 

In selecting a hotel, it is always safe to rely on Baedeker. 
Any hotel he stars in his guide-book is sure to be good of its 


HOW TO STAY. 


137 


class, and the class is to be inferred from the prices given. 
The man who need ncrt study his expenditure, who can afford 
the be-st and wants it, can usually get it by going to the hotel 
starred first in a Baedeker list. Not always, however, for the 
great profit brought to a hotel in a frequented place by head¬ 
ing the Baedeker list is liable to spoil it by making its land¬ 
lord careless, indifferent, and even arrogant. Then when 
another edition of the guide-book comes out, Baedeker, 
whose disinterestedness in the matter is unimpeachable, puts 
some other hotel first. Some people who like to travel by 
rule always go to the second or third hotel in the Baedeker 
list. Those to whom mild economy is an object, follow out 
with safety the plan of going to the first hotel listed as of the 
second class; it is reasonably sure to be-satisfactory. Others 
get a landlord to recommend a hotel of the same grade in the 
next place on the route. Others keep a note-book and jot 
down information on this point that they get from fellow- 
travelers. Of one thing you may be sure,—that the look of 
the hotel bus at the railway station is no safe guide. The 
paint on the omnibus is no criterion of the food on the table. 

The very fact that a hotel is recommended by Baedeker, 
or any agency, is in one way an argument against it, for un¬ 
doubtedly you will learn more and probably you will enjoy 
more if you keep away from the stream of tourists. To ad¬ 
vise the novice to keep away from his countrymen, may seem 
unpatriotic, but it is common sense. “When at Rome, do as 
the Romans do,” is a maxim that has a depth of logic beneath 
it. If you believe in it, you will go to the hotel used by the 
well-to-do people of the country in which it may be, if you 
can learn which hotel that is, and not to the hotel where all 
the guests at table are of your own nationality, giving you no 
chance to improve your knowledge of the language, or to 
observe the manners and characteristics of the people. Yet It 
is dangerous to dogmatize, and there is something in the 
point that to meet your fellow-countrymen now and then is 
inspiriting, and that if you discriminate in your conversation, 
you can extract a good deal of useful travel-information from 
them. 

Likewise it must be admitted that the argument against 


GOING ABROAD? 


138 

going to the highest-priced hotels is not unimpeachable. The 
costliest is sure to be large, and to have a variety of rooms, 
many of them at prices no higher than those of the second- 
grade hotels. It is reasonably sure to be comfortable, while 
there is a chance that the low-grade hotel may not be all that 
could be desired. Some tourists argue that at the best hotel 
they always get the best company and the best table, but 
whatever certainty there may be about the company surely 
does not extend to the table, for as in our country elegance 
is often provided at the expense of the food. There is ground 
for the cynic’s assertion that the quality of the viands is in in¬ 
verse proportion to the size of the menu, for the more a chef 
scatters his energies, the less likely he is to triumph; the 
greater the variety of dishes in the kitchen, the less care can 
be given to each. Furthermore, though man does not live by 
bread alone, he surely can’t eat the china. 

Undoubtedly tc save 20 per cent, in hotel bills means in 
many cases a loss of 30 per cent, in comfort, but in my belief 
10 per cent, can be saved with no loss in comfort at all, for 
the costliest hotels charge about 10 per cent, extra for ele¬ 
gance, which adds nothing whatever to comfort, and even as 
luxury is of uncertain value. You see it is largely a matter of 
personal tastes. 

All through Europe the hotel books are kept by the num¬ 
bers of the rooms and not by the names of the guests. So it 
is necessary to fix in mind one’s room number at the start, if 
in a hotel of any size. In some countries the law requires 
landlords to get the name of a guest and other information 
about him immediately upon his arrival, to be reported to the 
police. Elsewhere one may register or not as he pleases, and 
usually he doesn’t please. 

It is the American custom to serve all three of the day’s 
meals in the same room, but that is not the general practice 
abroad. In England the breakfast is usually served in what 
is known as the coffee room; yau may get the other meals 
there, or you may be sent to a “commercial room,” or there 
may be a dining room. In the Latin countries it is well-nigh 
the universal custom of the native-born to have the morning 
coffee and roll in their rooms, frequently taking them while 


HOW TO STAY. 


139 


yet a-bed. Away from the hotels frequented by foreigners 
one is likely to find the dining room in the morning not so 
attractive as a table on the terrace, in the summer time, at 
any rate. Awkward moments may be saved many a novice in 
travel if he is informed that ordinarily on entering a dining 
or coffee room one is expected to take any seat that suits his 
fancy. Occasionally a head waiter rushes forward to offer his 
services in getting seats, but the common thing is for the 
traveler to find his own. It is exceedingly bad form to be 
late at the table d’hote. 

Damage done to the furniture and other equipments of a 
hotel room is and should be at the cost of the guest. No 
honest traveler will evade payment for it, and his best course 
is to call the landlord’s attention to it as soon as practicable 
after the accident has happened. Otherwise he may have the 
harder time with an unscrupulous landlord who sees in it a 
chance for profit. Indeed, in some parts of Europe it is no 
uncommon thing for landlords to reap a harvest by making 
successive guests pay damages for the same spot in the car¬ 
pet or the cracked bowl that has done yeoman service in this 
regard for a dozen years. Especially in Germany and Austria 
is it wise to take note of the condition of the furniture and 
other fittings of a room on entering it, and to call the atten¬ 
tion of the portier or waiter to anything amiss. The rule is 
that one must leave the room as he found it, and after all it is 
a just rule, even though some rascally hosts take advantage of 
its existence to defraud the unwary. 

The Association of Svdss Hotel Proprietors issues a hotel 
list, with a preface that presents the landlord’s view of some 
of these things in a way not often considered by the traveler. 
It points out, for instance, that when 'one orders a room in 
advance by letter or telegraph, no certainty is given to the 
landlord that the bargain will be carried out,—a bargain, by 
the way, to which he has not consented to be a party. Who, 
indeed, will answer the conundrum as to which traveler has 
the greater claim for accommodations, the traveler that ar¬ 
rives early with his money in hand, or the unknown person 
that without offering surety announces still earlier by wire or 
post his intention to arrive late? 


140 


GOING ABROAD? 


It is also pointed out that the man who in advance orders 
a room to be ready for his arrival early in the morning may 
very justly be expected to pay for it as if he had used it all 
night, provided it had to be kept empty in order to be ready 
for him. In the same way he who departs late in the day may 
justly be asked to pay for that night if he has kept the land¬ 
lord from renting the room to some one else; but friction on 
this point can generally be saved by giving notice early in 
the day of intent to vacate the room, provided the notice is 
given to the right person*and is not in the nature of a casual 
remark to a waiter or a chambermaid. 

An inn-keeper is responsible at common law for the acts 
of his domestics, and for thefts, and is bound to take all due 
care day and night of the goods and baggage of his guests de¬ 
posited in his house, or intrusted to the care of his family or 
servants. There remain few, if any, countries in the civilized 
world, however, where landlords have not been freed by 
statute from responsibility for valuables not specifically en¬ 
trusted to them for safe keeping. Furthermore, whether in 
the land of common or the civil law, whether there are 
statutes on the subject or not, the tourist is at the disad¬ 
vantage of being among strangers, and, as a rule, of lacking 
the time for legal processes. It is decidedly a case where dis¬ 
cretion is the better part of valor, and a fight is almost use¬ 
less. Should the occasion for it arise, better consult the near¬ 
est American consul. But the chance of the occasion is in 
fact very small. Thieving is not characteristic of hotel ser¬ 
vants in most parts of Europe, and, as a rule, one’s effects 
may be left in a hotel room with impunity. 

In Norway and Sweden scrupulous honesty is the rule, 
in small as well as large matters. One American, after get¬ 
ting home from there, was followed speedily by a letter from 
the keeper of the hotel at Christiania, where he stayed, enclos¬ 
ing a ten-krone note (about $2.50), and stating that the cham¬ 
bermaid had found it on the floor of one of the rooms occu¬ 
pied by the American’s family. 

Anywhere on the Continent report a birth or death at 
once to the nearest American consul. 


HOW TO STAY. I4 , 

IN PENSIONS. 

Pronounce it as a French word, pon-si-on, with as much 
of the nasal twang for the two n’s as you can muster; don't 
accent the first syllable, but dwell a little on the last. It has 
nothing to do with our word “penshun,” except philologi- 
cally. The American of it is “boarding-house.” Abroad it 
has gained almost as general use outside France as the 
French word “menu.” 

The line between hotels and pensions is very shady. In¬ 
deed, it is a frequent thing to find the “Hotel So-and-So” 
with a sub-title, “and Pension Such-and-Such.” This is 
merely open recognition of the system of payment practically 
in vogue at nearly all hotels, under which you pay a larger 
sum by the day for a short stay than for a long stay. But 
landlords vary in drawing the line; sometimes you can get 
pension rates if you stay more than three days, sometimes it 
is five days, and occasionally a week is the limit. When ar¬ 
riving at a hotel, if you expect to stay several days, inquire 
about the pension rates in advance. 

Occasionally, in the smaller cities, pensions pure and 
simple will take guests for but a single night; as a rule, how¬ 
ever, they expect their guests to stay a week or more, and in 
many Parisian pensions you will not get the lowest rates 
unless you stay a month or more. 

My bills for 157 days passed in eight pensions of France, 
Switzerland and Italy average $1.35 a day, with fees averaging 
5 cents a day, making a total cost of $1.40. When we paid 
for kerosene lamp in our room, it cost us from 7 to 15 cents 
a day, but after we bought our own lamp and petroleum, the 
cost was trivial. By the way, the petroleum can be bought in 
bottles at any grocery store, allowance being made for the 
bottle when returned, just as many American grocers are 
getting in the way of doing with cream. 

A fire in the room in winter costs from 15 to 20 cents a 
day, but was not frequently needed, in Italy. 

As in other ma-tters, the lowest rates are found in Italy, 
but Swiss prices are almost as low. There are many pen¬ 
sions in the Alps where one can live comfortably for a dollar 


142 


GOING ABROAD? 


a day if a stay of a week or more is promised, and a few as 
low as 90 or even 80 cents a day. Their beds and rooms are 
invariably clean, and the diet is wholesome, well cooked and 
well served. 

Good boarding-houses are not plentiful in Great Britain 
outside London, though there are some excellent ones in 
Oxford and a few other places, supported chiefly by the pat¬ 
ronage of American tourists. They are accustomed to fleet¬ 
ing guests, so that one need feel no embarrassment in apply¬ 
ing to them even if the stay is to be for but a night or two. 
In London those of the highest price are in the West End, 
but the mass of American boarders may be found in the 
neighborhood of -the British Museum, paying for the most 
part from $1.75 to $2 a day for accommodations of the better 
sort. This, too, is about what is common in Paris and the 
hotel pensions of other cities, though where there is no 
‘‘hotel” pretence $1.50 will command the best to be had in 
any provincial city or town. 

Of course, in fashionable pensions, such as those in the 
Parisian quarter about the Arc de Triomphe, one can easily 
find the chance to pay from $2.50 to $3 a day if he seeks it. 
My figures are about what is paid by people who know 'their 
Europe well or act on the advice of people who know it. 
For no person who visits Europe from really valuable 
motives goes or will advise others 'to go to pensions wholly 
used by English-speaking people, unless it be in summer, 
when rest is of more consequence than study. In the first 
place, you can’t learn anything of a foreign language when 
your dinner companions insist on speaking your own lan¬ 
guage, or rather you can learn it only with far more difficulty. 
At table is the best place to practice a foreign language. 
Then, too, the Americans who live habitually in pensions fre¬ 
quented by their fellow-countrymen are, as a rule, not people 
from whom you learn much or whose acquaintance 's a source 
of much profit in any way. Of course, there are exceptions; 
often delightful friendships are made at the tables of foreign 
pensions or hotels, but seldom continued. 

The Women’s Rest Tour Association issues a list of 
boarding-houses and pensions that it recommends, but this is 


HOW TO STAY. 


M 3 


accessible only to members. The Teachers’ Guild of Great 
Britain and Ireland issues a similar list, covering not only 
Europe, but also the United States, Canada, Palestine and 
North Africa. Great care is taken to secure the accuracy of 
the particulars given, and they are checked and corrected 
every year. Every address sent for insertion in the Guild 
Hand book has to be accompanied by a letter of recommen¬ 
dation from a member of the Guild or from two persons who 
are not members. Anybody can obtain the list by sending 
express or international money order for 26 cents to the General 
Secretary, at the office of the Guild, 74 Gower St., W. C., 
London. No money is received from any one for inserting any 
address in it. 

The* International Union of Pensions is composed of 
about 80 pensions, scattered over the Continent and in Eng¬ 
land, so that nearly every place frequented by tourists has a 
member or two. The members are required to maintain a 
certain standard of excellence, or be liable to expulsion. The 
houses are favorites with women traveling singly or in parties, 
who find them more pleasant and home-like than hotels. A 
booklet with a list of the houses and brief description of each 
will be sent free on application to Fraulein Mary Roesch, 
Gabelsbergerstrasse 1, Munich, Germany. 

Lacking information from any of these sources, one 
who contemplates an extended stay in any strange town 
abroad may usually get trustworthy advice by addressing a 
letter of inquiry to the Mayor of the place. An address thus 
secured is at least certain to be that of a respectable pension 
or private family. One’s banker, too, can usually make sug¬ 
gestions. It was a banker’s letter that opened the doors of 
one most excellent pension where the guesls are supposed to 
be accepted only when bringing letters of introduction. In 
another instance, where we visited a certain smaH city for the 
chief purpose of a few weeks of study, we “fell on our feet” 
through asking advice of the local Delegate of the Touring- 
Club de France. In Paris one may consult the advertising 
columns of the Paris edition of the New York Herald, or if 
they announce nothing satisfactory, may get addresses in 
plenty by inserting a few lines. If he goes there for study, he 


i 44 


GOING ABROAD? 


may start for the Latin Quarter at once, and preferably in the 
region between the Luxembourg and the Boulevard Mont¬ 
parnasse can without much trouble find what he wants. A 
woman can there find accommodation at the American Girls’ 
Club or get on the track of it in the neighborhood. At the 
Club the price of a single room is $2 a week. There is a res¬ 
taurant attached where one pays for what she orders and can 
live at from 60 to 80 cents a day. In view of the purpose of 
the Club, to be of aid to students, of course the table is 
modest, expenses being kept as low as possible. The student 
of French can find good board in the cities of the Loire 
Valley, where the language is purest, and notably in Tours, 
for $7 or $8 a week. 

It is safer to make in writing agreements for long so¬ 
journs at pensions, and the same thing is true in the matter 
of lodgings. Sudden notice of intent to leave entitles the 
landlord to an indemnity in most foreign localities, and if 
stipulations on this point have not been definitely made in 
advance, you may find yourself arrested just as you are about 
to leave town. It is always well to ask the advice of the 
American consul before drawing up a document bearing on 
this matter or any other, as, if you have not taken this pre¬ 
caution, through some informality your agreement may prove 
worthless. Do not infer that quarrels with your landlord 
are inevitable; but they are not unknown, and where any 
considerable amount of money is to be involved, it will be 
wise to be on the safe side. 

IN LODGINGS. 

In England, though in London at least 'there are many 
boarding-houses, it is more usual to live in “lodgings,” that 
is, more usual to hire a furnished room by itself than to in¬ 
clude the. taking of meals at the common table. Frequently, 
however, you arrange to have part of your meals in the house, 
but served in your own room. In that case you may buy your 
own materials and pay for the cooking, or the landlady will 
buy what you direct and cook it for a slight charge. In a 
thoroughly convenient and respectable location in London, 



HOW TO STAY. 


US 

$7.50 a week would be a low price for a plainly furnished 
sitting-room and bedroom. Two of us paid $1.25 a day for 
such accommodations in the height of the season, close by 
Piccadilly, a most convenient location, but noisy. Meat 
breakfasts were served in our room for two shillings apiece. 
One can do better than that in the suburbs, but distances are 
long in London amd it is economy to’ pay for a convenient 
location if time is any object. Prices are lower in the smaller 
English places, and the landladies more endurable. (Those 
of London are often s<o bothersome that many Americans 
advise against taking lodgings there.) Figures from the ex¬ 
pense book of two American girls who took lodgings wher¬ 
ever they had addresses, show that in Lincoln for apartments 
in a delightfully quaint little house just outside the cathedral 
close, where t'he landlady and everything about the place were 
spotlessly clean, they paid $1.40 apiece for the night’s lodg¬ 
ing and three meals. In York they had lodging, supper and 
breakfast for a dollar apiece. At Oxford the same thing with 
a fine grate fire cost a dollar apiece. In Edinburgh they had 
lodging and breakfast for a week for $3.50 apiece. 

In London and the large cities it is the custom to go out 
for dinner. London restaurants are more costly than those of 
the same grade in the States, and so London is not the 
cheapest place in which to dine. To live in this way abroad 
is much simpler than at home, for restaurant life is so much 
more common. It has been said that a third of the people of 
Paris dine at cafes. Women seldom have any serious trouble 
in finding a restaurant where they can dine unmolested, and 
a great many of the art students abroad live in this fashion, 
often not spending a dollar a day for the whole cost of exist¬ 
ence. Furnished rooms, however, are not so easily to be 
found in Paris as in London, but they are there. Such a 
room in or about the Latin Quarter ought not to cost more 
than $10 or $15 a month. 

Wherever you take lodgings, whether in London or on 
the Continent, be sure to learn the price of all the “extras” 
in advance. In Germany, indeed, it would not be amiss to 
learn how much butter will be served with your morning 
coffee. People in Europe do not “throw in” things. The 


146 


GOING ABROAD? 


smallest expenditures are discussed and determined with ex¬ 
actness. A fire costs in London all the way from 12 to 24 
cents a scuttle for the coal, kindlings usually extra; lights cost 
from 24 to 84 cents a week, unless you furnish your own lamp 
and candles. Baths are usually 12 cents. 

In an English town if you have the address of n<o house, 
it will be safe to inquire at the shop of a chemist, stationer, 
or pastry cook, for clean, respectable lodgings. While hunt¬ 
ing them up, your luggage may be checked at the station, to 
be sent for as soon as you have hired a room. 

The tourist in Great Britain who takes lodgings instead 
of going to hotels, who frequently stays more than a week in 
a place, and who exercises economy, can keep his or her 
average expenses inside two dollars a day. For three dollars 
many a luxury can be enjoyed. If, then, the voyage over and 
back should cost $120, a two months’ tour can be made for 
not far from $200; three months, not far from $260. But a 
great deal more pleasure may be had by spending $250 on the 
two months’ tour, $300 on one of three months. Extending 
to the Continent means much more expense by reason of the 
car fares; distances in England are short 

Tourists who have visited Russia will advise taking fur¬ 
nished apartments at St. Petersburg. 

HOUSEKEEPING. 

If a man tells you living is cheaper in Europe than 
America, ask him to prove it item by item. Don’t accept as 
proof his statement, doubtless true, that he has spent less in a 
year abroad than in a year at home. Make him go into 
details. If he kept house, did he have a bath-room, with hot 
and cold water? Was there a range in his kitchen? Was 
the house heated by hot air, hot water, or steam? If it was 
an apartment house, did it have an elevator? Were there set 
tubs in the laundry? 

Ten to one you will force him to confess that in these 
details and others he did not have in Europe the conveniences 
he thinks he cannot live without in America. Try him on the 
matter of food and he will admit that taking an average of all 


HOW TO STAY. 


147 


the raw materials he has bought, the European cost has not 
differed much from the American. Ask him about clothing 
and at last he will smile triumphantly and tell you how 
cheaply he bought a suit in London or gloves in Naples, but 
do you demand, “How did they wear, and how did they fit?” 
Then he will evade again. 

The assertion tha-t living abroad is cheaper than here, is a 
half-truth, deceptive and dangerous. Undoubtedly most 
Americans who go abroad live cheaper than at home, but the 
reason is simply that they are contented with less. From 
necessity or without unhappiness they dispense with many 
things that in America they deem indispensable either for 
bodily comfort or to maintain social position. In New York, 
Philadelphia or Boston they must dwell in the aristocratic 
quarter; in Paris or Berlin or Vienna it matters not where 
they dwell, so long as the surroundings are not squalid. In 
Rome, even that matters little, and because it was once a 
“Palace,” a dirty, crumbling tenement-house may without 
disgrace shelter an American family of high degree. “It’s so 
picturesque and so romantic, you know!” 

It is not to be denied that there are many compensating 
advantages,—the chance to study art, music, language; the 
neighborhood of fine galleries and museums; contact with an 
old-world life that sobers, refines and cultivates the some¬ 
what rank and florid American spirit; freedom from irksome 
social duties and resporfsibilities; annihilation of the need of 
keeping up appearances, of trying to go the pace set by 
neighbors and friends with more money than Fortune has 
given you. 

Is this statement of the case not enough to show that 
accurate comparison of the cost of living abroad and at 
home is impossible? Yet if you still demand figures, I can 
give a few, thanks to William Henry Bishop’s book, “A 
House Hunter in Europe,” to Margaret B. Wright’s “Hired 
Furnished,” and to articles by other writers. 

IN FRANCE: Paris, in some regards the costliest city 
in the world, certainly is not such in the matter of rents in 
ordinary years, whatever it may be in an Exposition year. 
Statistics show the average rent paid by Parisian families to 


GOING ABROAD? 


148 

be $80 a year. Contrast thi-s with Boston, where, according to 
the elaborate figures of the Mass. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 
the average rent paid by people living in tenements is $17.26 
a month, or a trifle more than $200 a year. But undoubtedly 
there are many more of high-priced suites in Paris than in 
Boston in proportion to population, becatfse apartment life is 
so much more general. The inference may be that the 
Parisian masses pay far lower rents than those of an Ameri¬ 
can city, and that the well-to-do pay somewhat lower rents 
than ours. Unfurnished apartments are much cheaper than 
furnished, considering what you get. For example, an unfur¬ 
nished suite consisting of parlor, dining-room, bed-room and 
kitchen on the fifth floor cost Mr. Bishop, all told, about 
$180 a year. A suite up only one flight might have been had 
at the same cost, but it had no sun. In the suburbs he found 
apartments larger and not so high up, at corresponding 
prices, but with no great advantage over those in the city. 

Contrast this with the experience of another American, 
who took a furnished flat in one of the aristocratic quarters: 
“Three long flights of stairs had to be climbed, and when my 
apartments were reached there was a small hall, three cham¬ 
bers, also small, a salon, and a kitchen about 10 feet squre. 
The only water was in the kitchen. I had one fair-sized 
closet for clothes, but no cellar or store-room, or refrigerator; 
one servant’s room in the sixth story. The furniture was not 
very clean, but fairly comfortable; glass and china were of the 
most common quality. I was obliged to hire bed and table 
linen and silver. For this flat I had to pay $70 a month, one 
month’s rent in advance, and sign a lease that I would be re¬ 
sponsible for payment for three months. •This was the cheap¬ 
est furnished apartment I saw, and people who reside in the 
city have told me it was a great bargain. When compared 
With our apartments in America, supplied with bath-rooms, 
hot and cold water, steam heat, elevators, closets, and all 
modern (improvements, I think the balance is largely in our 
favor.” 

Americans are at first puzzled by the nomenclature in 
vogue here as elsewhere on the Continent, for what we call 
the first floor, viz., the ground floor, is not there known as 


HOW TO STAY. 


149 


such. The French name for it is “rez-de-chaussee.” Above 
this may or may not come an intermediate floor known as the 
‘‘entresol.” Then comes what they call the first story, corre¬ 
sponding to our third or second story, according as there is 
or is not an entresol. So when one is told that his friend 
dwells in the fourth story, he may expect to climb either four 
or five flights of stairs. Paris houses seldom exceed six 
stories and seldom have elevators. In our apartment houses 
without elevators every additional flight detracts from social 
prestige, but that view of it is of less consequence abroad, and 
one may approach the stars without losing prestige. In¬ 
deed, by reason of the want of light and of the humidity, the 
lower stories, especially the ground floors, are often rented 
at a lower price than the others. Even in buildings where the 
upper stories contain costly suites, the custom is to have 
shops of the most plebeian character on the ground floor. 

The usual Parisian servant for apartment work is called 
the “femme de menage.” She comes to do your day’s work, 
or any part of it you like, for about six cents an hour, and re¬ 
turns to her home to sleep. It is a recognized thing, like 
going to trade, or any other occupation. You do not have to 
provide a chamber for her, and if she conies for only a part 
of the day, you do not .even have to feed her. If kept all the 
time, her wages would be $8 a month, which is, of course, 
much below American prices, but, on the other hand, one 
good servant in America does about as much as two or three 
abroad, partly by leason of the fact that American homes are 
better arranged for housekeeping. There is no chance in 
Parisian suites for washing or drying clothes, and the laun¬ 
dering charges add to the servant expense. 

Good be-ef, mutton or veal costs about 22 cents a pound; 
choice filet or tenderloin twice that. Butter is 40 cents a 
pound, but it is fresh and delicious. Eggs are three cents 
apiece at their dearest, every one perfect. Poultry is dear, but 
you have some good substitutes for it, such as rabbit and hare. 
Fruit is plentiful and cheap. Salads and green vegetables 
generally, owing to the milder climate, are much longer in 
season and always cheaper. Milk is six cents-a litre,—a little 
more than a quart, but it is always thin. Ice is almost un- 


GOING ABROAD? 


! 5 ° 

known, but you get along very easily without it. Having no 
refrigerator, you buy in smaller quantities, a distinct advan¬ 
tage for small families, because, as a consequence, the meats 
are cut differently, and everything else is adapted to this sys¬ 
tem. “You can buy excellent, juicy roast beef to the value of 
a franc and a half (30 cents), if you like, whereas the very 
smallest piece two people could buy at home, without being 
ridiculous, would have to keep reappearing in various forms 
for several days. ’ Coal is $11 a ton for the kind used in 
ranges and 9 toves; for the few furnaces, about a dollar less. 
Gas is more expensive than in our country, and inferior in 
quality. 

At Pau in a short promenade Mr. Bishop found three 
lodgements, any one of which would have done. The price 
of the largest, with several more bed-rooms than needed by a 
couple, was $160 a year. Another, a first story, in the house 
of a respectable official, consisting of ante-chamber, kitchen, 
dining-room, parlor, two bed-rooms, and servant’s bed-room, 
was but $110. 

In Bloiis, one house, fourteen rooms, with a garden, was 
about $240; another was $140, had three stories and a sunny 
terrace. 

IN SPAIN: An apartment of eleven rooms, up two 
flights, was offered to Mr. Bishop in Granada for $145 a year. 
The dearest apartment he saw in Seville would have been 
$225. Summing up Spain, he says: “In a general way you 
may count on having a highly presentable apartment for $400, 
—this in the large, expensive cities, including Madrid. Per¬ 
haps even one of the famous houses of Seville with patio, or 
half-Moorish court-yard, could be had for that—if one of 
them could ever be found vacant. The cost of provisions 
cann-ot vary greatly from what it is in France. In servant’s 
wages there is a notable reduction. You can have an ex¬ 
cellent cook for $7 (a month), and a maid-of-all-work for 
$3 or $4.” 

IN ITALY: At Villefranche, on the Riviera. Mr. Bishop 
spent a year in adarge villa, with ten or a dozen rooms, in the 
centre of an estate in which he had the right to promenade, 


HOW TO STAY. 


151 

with oranges, lemons, roses and lovely views, for which the 
rent was $120 a year. 

His experience in house hunting at Rome was distressing. 
Some of the prices were: An apartment on the Pincian Hill 
at $900 a year; another at $430; a second-story apartment in 
the Palazzo Odescalchi at $1,000; in a modern building on the 
Forum of Trajan, eight rooms in the third story at $180; near 
St. Peter’s, six rooms in the fifth story at $216; for a 12-room 
apartment in the freshly built quarters, $600. 

Florence is cheaper than Rome. “To sum up, a fairish 
apartment would cost from $240 to $360 a year, a figure for 
which you could make yourself very much more comfortable 
in or about Nice.” 

The best of his bargains was at Verona, where he passed 
six months in a house of which the rent was $72 a year. “A 
grand apartment, with frescoes in the style of the old masters, 
could be had, down in a wing of the Giustfi palace, if 'one pre¬ 
ferred, for about $240 a year. For what would be a very mod¬ 
est scale of expense in America, one could here keep horses 
and live like a sort of Sardanapalus.” 

The chief defect in the experiment, says Mr. Bishop, is 
that “your cheap habitation, no matter how excellent, art-istic, 
and original in itself, must always thpow you into pretty close 
relations with persons quite able to pay the same low rents, 
who will have very different ways of living, and these will be 
very likely to bring your own to naught.” 

Venice has perhaps fewest chances of any of the cities 
Mr. Bishop tried. “Apart from the liberal provision of dear 
furnished lodgings for the strangers who come to pass a 
month or two in the spring and autumn, there is very little to 
choose from.” The most reasonable thing was an apartment 
of five rooms for $320. Three of the rooms were each about 
36 x 21. It looked on the Grand Canal. A small single 
house, mot far from the Grand Canal, but absolutely without 
modern improvements, had half a dozen rooms, three stories, 
and cost $96 a year. Theodore Purdy says that for furnished 
apartments comprising nearly all of a small palace on the 
Grand Canal he paid $44 a month. His dining room was the 
large ball-room, possibly 60 feet long, and besides this he had 


152 


GOING ABROAD? 


seven rooms, fully furnished including linen and a solid silver 
service. The man who served as gondolier and butler cost 72 
cents a day ; the maid-cf-all-work, 18 cents. “Our living ex¬ 
penses, including rent, food, wages of two servants, gondola 
and small extras, such as fees, fruits, a profusion of plants 
and flowers, excursions, wines, papers and books, for a party 
of six persons, came to a total of one dollar and a half a day, 
each. This is not the smallest amount for which one could 
keep house in Venice, for we occupied rather expensive quar¬ 
ters, and we had a private gondola at our door and many 
other unnecessary luxuries.” 

IN GERMANY; Philip G. Hubert, Jr., in describing 
his experience in seeking furnished apartments in Munich and 
Dresden, says that after hunting all day in vain in Munich he 
did what all Americans should begin by doing, i. e., call on 
the American consul for help. The consul took him to a 
house-agent and also suggested advertising. He found that 
advertising is the quickest and virtually the only way of get¬ 
ting what one wants, for as nobody makes a regular business 
of furnishing apartments for rental, and the real-estate agent 
is almost unknown, there is no regular market or exchange 
for apartments. But in every large city there are people who 
for one reason or another want to get away and have apart¬ 
ments on their hands. A short advertisement setting forth 
exactly what you need, the number of rooms, quarter of the 
city, and length of time required, is pretty sure to bring 
scores of answers. Have the advertisement written by a 
German, and the answers, with the price demanded, sent to 
the newspaper oflice. If any strange turn or expression be¬ 
trays the foreigner, the price will rise; if no price is men¬ 
tioned in some answers that promise well, get a German ac¬ 
quaintance to call and find out the price before making your 
appearance on the scene. Finally, when you have found an 
apartment that suits you as to position, character, and price, 
consult some resident of the city concerning it; in this way 
you may avoid settling in an inconvenient part of the city, or 
in some quarter exposed to nuisances of which no stranger 
would suspect the existence. There are parts of Munich and 
Dresden so inaccessible from the shopping quarters, the 


HOW TO STAY. 


153 

opera, and the picture galleries, and so poorly served by the 
cars, as to make them out of the question for Americans; 
and yet they are among the prettiest quarters of both cities. 
A resident will give advice on these paints. He will also tell 
you that new buildings are to be avoided in Munich, for they 
are so solidly built, and so thickly covered with tons of mor¬ 
tar put on to imitate stone, that they require, in so damp and 
ookl a climate, more than a year to dry. New houses are 
rented at a discount for the first year t>r two, the tenants 
taking the risk of sickness. 

Mr. Hubert ended his Munich house-hunting by taking a 
small apartment, three flights up, consisting of parlor, dining¬ 
room, kitchen, two good-sized bed-rooms, and one very small 
one. All the rooms were bright and sunny. The building 
was of a good class in a quiet street. The furniture was of an 
excellent character, and everything excepting silver, but in¬ 
cluding linen, was supplied. For this apartment he paid 80 
marks a month for six months, a trifle less than $20 a month. 
It must be said, however, that he was particularly fortunate. 
The owner or tenant, a lady, who answered his advertisement, 
had to leave Munich for the summer on account of sickness 
in her family, and sublet the apartment rather than leave it 
empty. Other apartments he saw of about the same charac¬ 
ter were nearly twice the rent, and he would say that the 
avrage rent of such an apartment in Munich would be about 
150 marks a month. The regular rent of the apartment he 
had, unfurnished, was $200 a year. He had paid $600 a year 
in New York for an unfurnished fiait in no way superior to 
this one. 

Domestic servants ask in Munich about half the wages 
the same girls would receive in New York, once they are able 
to speak a few words of English. A very good cook is well 
paid with $8 a month, and expects to have only two evenings 
a month to herself for outing purposes. A good chamber¬ 
maid or waitress seldom receives more than $6 a month. If 
one will consent to take girls fresh from the country, wages 
are lower, but foreigners have to employ maids familiar with 
city ways, and a cook competent to do the marketing and 
wrangle with the janitor, who, in Munich as in New York, is 



154 


GOING ABROAD? 


a great personage, counting for much in the welfare of a 
tenant. Personal service of every kind costs in about the 
same proportion. Many families in Munich, perhaps most of 
the well-to-do people, have their washing done outside of 
their apartments, and it is therefore cheap. The weekly cost 
for four persons was never more than a dollar, including a 
gratuity of io pfennigs, or two cents and a half, to the pretty 
peasant girl who came for it weekly, and with the help of a 
little hand-cart and a big dog carried it no one knows how 
many miles into the suburbs. Personal service of any kind is 
rewarded with a few pfennigs. The man who brings the coal 
and wood, the boy or girl who brings a parcel from a 
shop, the grocer-boy, etc., all expect a small tip, but 
it is so small as not to be worth considering in making up the 
cost of housekeeping. Ten pfennigs seem to go as far as 25 
cents in New York for similar purposes. 

Meat seems to be dear all over Germany, and not so good 
as at home. To its high cost, and the absence of refrigerators 
and ice, is due probably the habit of relying largely upon 
the delicatessen shops, where the German housewife buys 
daily just enough roast meat, sausage or ham to suffice for 
dinner. Vegetables are remarkably cheap. The ordinary price 
of soup-greens for a family—onions, carrots, celery-root, and 
parsley—is only five pfennigs (one cent and a quarter). Ex¬ 
cellent lettuce costs from three to five pfennigs a head; spin¬ 
ach is about one-quarter the price it is in New York; potatoes 
are four pfennigs a pound: apples-are ten pfennigs a pound. 
Bread and milk cost about the same in Munich as in New 
York, but both are always excellent, the authorities keeping a 
sharp eye upon the dairies and milk-dealers. Tea, coffee and 
sugar cost about the same as at home, but fancy groceries, 
such as crackers, or biscuits, as the English call them, jellies 
and marmalade, not being in common use, are very dear. 
For instance, Scotch orange marmalade that we buy for 17 
cents in New York, costs just double in Munich and Dres¬ 
den. Coal and wood for the porcelain stoves to be found in 
every German room, cost a trifle less than at home. 

In Germany a tenant gives his landlord six months’ 
notice of his intention to leave; and no unfurnished apart- 


HOW TO STAY. 


155 

ment is rented for less than a year; so that, although many 
houses have bills on them, these refer to apartments that will 
be vacant five or six months later, or even a year later. It is 
uot worth while to try to find a decent apartment for less 
than six months. Whenever one asks the price of an apart¬ 
ment for three months he finds that the sum named is very 
little, if any, below what would be asked for six months. 
Germans cannot understand people who want to move every 
three months. 

As for Germany, take the testimony of still another corre¬ 
spondent, writing from Heidelberg to correct 'the impression 
prevalent in the United States that rent and living are cheap 
in the Fatherland. “Taking into account the antiquated con¬ 
struction and absence of all modern conveniences in their 
houses, the rent is very dear. The older houses seem to be 
built almost square—about 25 feet in width and depth. Each 
floor has its one flat, with many windows upon the street and 
rear. The buildings are generous also with their stairways. 
Our house has three flats. Each contains a large parlor, bed¬ 
room on each side, a small dining-room and kitchen, but no 
bath-room or clothes closets. They are heated by two porce¬ 
lain stoves. The ceilings are high, the floors painted and 
walls covered with inexpensive paper. The top or third flat 
rents for $20 a month, the second for $30 and the ground floor 
for $50. In this house a retired army officer lives on the third 
floor, a Heidelberg professor on the second, and the ground 
floor is divided into two small shops, one for the sale of small 
notions and the other for cigars. Handsome furniture, lace 
curtains, statuary, books, pictures and bric-a-brac give a gen¬ 
teel appearance to the apartments, but a clerk on $1200 a year 
in Chicago would not think of living in a flat of such primi¬ 
tive sanitary appliances. 

“As for the cost of living, that is even dearer. Perhaps 
Heidelberg, ocing an educational town, should not be taken 
as a criterion for smaller places. A visit to the public market 
shows that, although the greatest care is taken in preparing 
the produce to prevent loss to the consumer, prices are higher 
than in America. Soup beef costs 20 cents a pound, veal 
cutlets 3 cents each, mutton chops 28 cents a pound, kidney 


GOING ABROAD? 


156 

roast 30 cents, pork chops 20 cents, boiled ham 50 cents, beef¬ 
steak 59 cents. Geese are from 75 cents to $1.50 apiece, ducks 
as dear as in America, turkey (rare) $1.50 to $2 each, pigeons 
very much in demand at 50 cents to 60 cents a pair, young 
chickens 50 to 75 cents apiece, wild hare, about as large as 
jack rabbits, 75 to 90 cents apiece.” 

It may not be amiss to inform persons planning residence 
in Germany that if they live in houses or flats they have fur¬ 
nished, they are subject to the German income and other 
taxes after a sojourn of one year. The fact that they are pay¬ 
ing taxes elsewhere would not exempt them from those 
levied there. 

IN ENGLAND. “Housekeeping in London,” says 
Margaret B. Wright, “is no dearer than in American cities, 
perhaps a trifle less. Ordinary provisions, such as meat, fish 
and winter vegetables, are about Boston prices; the greater 
cost of fruits, summer vegetables and rarer provisions is 
equalized by the cheaper rents and Tabor wage. Gas and coal 
are cheaper than in America, at least in New England; very 
many wealthy English women absolutely refuse to keep 
warm when coals rise to $5 a ton. Country housekeeping 
is cheaper than in our own country. Rents are excessively 
low compared with ours. Except in the height of the season 
furnished country cottages are easy to find at an even ab¬ 
surdly low rent, for the dampness of England is an enemy 
to unoccupied houses.” She gives instances of such hirings 
at prices running from $1.50 to $5 a week, for any time from 
a week up. Her advice to anyone wanting to dwell in rural 
England after this delighful fashion is to make choice of a 
locality and then advertise in a local paper, being sure not 
to give an American address, but to have letters forwarded. 
The big dailies do just as well, although more expensive, 
and they do not forward letters. When you hire, take extra 
towels and table cloths. 

Mr. Bishop thinks that in London, Oxford or other 
English cities, it would be safe to count on a rent of about 
$300 a year. He says a maid servant would cost from $60 to 
$100 a year, but another writer declares that “one is obliged 
to keep more servants than in America, the work being so 


HOW TO STAY. 


*57 


divided that a servant will refuse to do certain duties on the 
plea that ‘it is not my place, mum.’ The wages of servants, 
like every other expenditure in England, are deceptive to 
the uninitiated. The nominal amount seems small, but the 
little charges add up like extras in a hotel bill. One terrible 
i-tem in the housekeeping expense is the washing, every bit 
of which is sent out of the house. The servants’ washing 
is paid for by the mistress. The weekly washing bills of a 
moderate establishment generally amount to more than the 
weekly wages of a good servant in America, who would not 
only do the family washing, but cook as well.” Another 
authority suggests that taxes must be taken into account 
and may amount to a quarter of the rent. 

In conclusion,—and it applies to the Continent as well 
as to England,—too many hopes should not be built on 
some of the figures that have been given. Mr. Bishop admits 
that some of his have already passed into history, for rents 
are rising. Furthermore, a great deal depends on the point 
ol view. Apartments or a house that would satisfy one 
American might seem despicable to another. I find Mr. 
Hubert averring that a mark, or 24 cents, will go almost as 
far in Munich as a dollar in New York, and I find the next 
writer declaring that “as far as casual observation goes, 
nothing in Germany is cheaper than in America, except wine, 
cigars, beer and music.” Algernon Dougherty, who has 
rounded out a quarter of a century in American legations 
from Mexico to Rome, concludes that as Mark Twain dis¬ 
covered, the cheapest city in Europe is Vienna, next to 
which he puts Brussels, then Paris, then London, and he de¬ 
clares Madrid the dearest.. On the other hand a medical 
friend who has studied long in Vienna asserts to me that it 
is by no means the cheapest of European capitals. He points 
out that where the unit of value is higher, living is costlier, 
and says that many things which cost a mark (24 cents) in 
Germany cost a gulden (40 cents) in Austria. 

From all these conflicting views my own conclusion is 
the notion with which I began this section, that quality for 
quality, living is as dear abroad as at home, and that where 
in the aggregate it costs less, one gets less, though the de* 


GOING ABROAD? 


158 

ficiency is for the time being more than made up by many 
compensating pleasures and benefits. 

STUDY IN THE UNIVERSITIES. 

The chances for study abroad are so numerous and 
varied that it would involve me dn an Herculean task to try 
to consider them all. A few random notes, however, may 
perhaps be well added to the general observation that access 
to the Universities is easy and cheap, often costless. 

For the English universities the system at Oxford may 
be taken as typical. To matriculate there, i. e., become a 
member of the University, it is necessary to be admitted into 
one of the Colleges or Halls, or into the body called Non- 
Collegiate Students; a candidate may be admitted into a 
College as a scholar, or as an exhibitioner, or as a com¬ 
moner. Scholarships and exhibitions are nearly all awarded 
according to the results of competitive examinations, held 
by the respective Colleges. Most of the scholarships are 
now open for the competition of youths under nineteen, and 
are chiefly of the value of $400 a year for practically four 
years. Some of the exhibitions are hardly distinguishable 
in any important respect from open scholarships. To be 
admitted into a College as a commoner, or to become a 
member of a Hall, or a non-collegiate student, it is neces¬ 
sary to pass an examination held by the College or Hall, or 
by the delegates of non-collegiate students, or to have passed 
some test accepted in lieu of this examination. When once a 
member of the University, a man must pass certain other 
University examinations before obtaining a degree. There 
are two sets of examinations,—a difficult one for those who 
seek “honors,” and an easy one for those who are content 
with an ordinary “pass.” The degree of Bachelor of Arts 
cannot be obtained in less than two years and eight months 
from matriculation, nor without residing in Oxford for 
twelve terms. Passmen may complete their academical 
course in three years; full honors men take four years. For 
the higher degrees of Civil Law, Medicine, and Divinity, no 
more residence is necessary, but further requirements have 
to be satisfied. For the M. A. degree the only requirement 


HOW TO STAY. 


159 

is that the candidate shall have had his name on the books 
for twenty-six terms since his matriculation. The bulk of 
the instruction is given by college tutors and lecturers under 
a system that allows members of one College to attend lec¬ 
tures given in the others. 

Four halls are now established at Oxford for the higher 
education of women; the members are admitted to the 
College lectures. Neither Oxford nor Cambridge yet gives 
women degrees, but in other respects they enjoy practically 
the same educational advantages that the men enjoy. From 
“A Summer in England” I glean these facts about the con¬ 
ditions of work there:— 

Any woman wishing to reside at Oxford for purposes 
of study should write, in the first instance, to Mrs. Arthur 
Johnson, 8 Merton Street, Oxford, one of the Secretaries of 
the Association for the Education of Women in Oxford, who 
will give full information. The fees, including board and 
tuition, may be roughly estimated at from $125 to $145 a 
term, and there are three terms, each of eight weeks, begin¬ 
ning about Jan. 20, April 20, and Oct. 15. Graduates of 
colleges included in the Association of College Alumnae, U. 
S. A., are admitted to the examinations without preliminary 
tests. Students wishing to reside for study at Cambridge 
should write to the Principal of Girton College, or the 
Principal of Newnham College. Information about the 
London University can be obtained from the Registrar, Lon¬ 
don University, Burlington Gardens, London. 

At both Oxford and Cambridge chance is offered in 
August for students to reside in university towns and avail 
themselves of the advantages furnished there by laboratories, 
lectures and libraries. Work is done in the chemical labora¬ 
tories, and there are numerous courses of lectures on his¬ 
tory, literature and art. These privileges are primarily 
meant to supplement the course of local lectures carried on 
in connection with the University Extension, and in order 
to share them American women should write to Arthur 
Berry, Esq., Syndicate Building, Cambridge, or Secretary, 
University Extension, Oxford. At Cambridge one guinea 
covers the expense of the course; board and lodging may 


i6o 


GOING ABROAD? 


be had by some students at Newnham College for 25 shillings 
a week. At Oxford, the “Summer Meeting of University 
Extension Students” is limited to a thousand persons, prefer¬ 
ence being given to those who have previously attended 
Extension courses. Tickets for the month (August) cost 
30 shillings; for the first ten days only, one pound. Visits 
are paid to the Colleges and University buildings under the 
guidance of residents, who give lectures on the history or 
architecture of the places visited. 

The committee of the Edinburgh Summer Meeting offers 
Vacation Science Courses through August. A ticket admit¬ 
ting to them all costs three guineas. Much of the work is 
in 'the open air; old Edinburgh is studied; t'he Botanic Gar¬ 
den and seashore are visited. Women wishing to go into 
residence there may address Housekeeper, University Hall, 
Ramsay Lodge, Edinburgh, or for general information in 
regard to classes, etc., Ricardo Stephens, M. B., University 
Hall, 4 Ramsay Garden, Edinburgh. 

The German universities most in favor with Americans 
have long been Heidelberg and Bonn; apart from the in¬ 
struction, they attract by reason of their locations and sur¬ 
roundings, particularly in the warmer months. Goettingen 
has always had a large number of faithful devotees; and both 
intellectually and from the point of view of its interesting 
situation, in a little Hanoverian peasant village, it un¬ 
doubtedly has much to commend it. As winter resorts, 
Berlin, Leipsic, and Munich are in favor. Berlin, since it has 
become the capital of the United German States, has drawn 
to it the greatest scholars in the German scientific world, 
and spends a large sum of money to maintain a famous corps 
of instructors. Its libraries are the most extensive in the 
country. The city is much pleasanter in summer than in 
winter, but it is hard to find any place in Germany that one 
can really recommend as a winter resort. Of the fifteen other 
German universities there are none exceptionally worth con¬ 
sideration by the American, though often a famous instructor 
at some of the smaller institutions draws students from afar. 
Not many Americans would care to go north of Berlin, 
that is, to Kiel, Greifswald, Rostock, or Koenigsberg. Some 


HOW TO STAY. 


i6i 

might stop at Breslau, Marburg, or Erlangen. There are 
always a few Americans at Halle, Jena, Strasburg, and Frei¬ 
burg. 

In Germany the winter semester or term begins about 
the first of October and continues into March; the summer 
semester begins late in April and ends early in August. For 
the student to matriculate or register costs only $5, and after 
that he is left to work out his own salvation. There is no 
compulsory attendance at lectures, no discipline, nothing 
like the American college recitation system. The tests come 
at the end of the course, when the student seeks his degree. 
Then he must prove a thorough knowledge 'of some depart¬ 
ment of knowledge within the range of academic instruction, 
write a thesis that shall be a contribution to science, pass a 
rigid oral examination, and pay $75. The fulfilling of these 
conditions means to the average graduate of an American 
college two years of hard work. Meantime his fees will not 
have amounted to more than $20 or $25 for each half year. 

In the German universities women have not till recently 
been allowed to matriculate or take degrees, but of late years 
they have been permitted to attend the lectures. At Leipsic 
the laws of Saxony prevent the recognition of women, and 
they attend as guests of the professor. At Helidelberg they 
are required to present the diploma of some college or uni¬ 
versity. In France the degrees are open to women as well 
as men. 

In Paris many of the lectures at the Sorbonne and the 
College of France are open to the public, and often a ma¬ 
jority of the audience is above the student age. Many Eng¬ 
lish-speaking people frequent these lectures to cultivate the 
ear by listening to scholarly French. Formal application 
and registration will usually secure entrance to the “closed 
courses.” There are two terms, one beginning in the early 
winter and lasting into Lent; the other beginning soon after 
Easter and ending in the early summer. 

A recent reform has opened the French faculties of 
science to foreigners on very advantageous conditions. 
American students have hitherto frequented Germany almost 
exclusively because of the liberty the universities of that 


162 


GOING ABROAD? 


country offer in the choice of studies, in permitting a change 
of university, and in requiring no examinations excepting 
when the student applies for a degree. Hereafter in France 
a student will be admitted on an American bachelor's degree, 
and will be permitted to choose his studies. After pursuing 
any scientific course a year, he can, if he wishes, apply for 
an examination in this branch, and; if successful, obtain a 
certificat d’ etude. Three such certificates, taken, say, in cal¬ 
culus, pure mechanics, and astronomy, will make him a 
licencie, and upon the presentation of a satisfactory thesis, he 
can then secure the French doctorate, which is decidedly 
superior to the German. If the student has the ability and so 
desires, he can discharge all three subjects the same year; 
or, if he prefers, he can do it in successive years, migrating, 
if he wishes, from one university to another, and studying 
at the same time whatever other subjects he may choose. 

The French system has one distinct advantage over that 
of Germany, because in Germany the student presents his 
thesis first, and if this is accepted, he is admitted to exami¬ 
nation. Everything hangs on one chance. He receives the 
doctorate or nothing. In France, on the contrary, the ex¬ 
aminations coming first, each step is marked, the student 
receiving independent credits for every part of his work. 
If he acquits himself in one branch only, he still has his 
certificat, and three branches give him the licence. If inter¬ 
rupted in his work befo r e securing a degree, he can with¬ 
draw with honorable credentials for at least that part of the 
work he has accomplished. 

Students of medicine throng to Vienna more than to any 
other European city, because it has the largest hospital, the 
most celebrated professors, and the best chances for instruc¬ 
tion. Each professor can take only a limited number of stu¬ 
dents, and the time of the more famous is so much in demand 
that places in their classes must be engaged long ahead. The 
courses run from four to six weeks and cost from $10 to $15 
each. The most ardent students carry on a dozen or more 
courses at a time. Without a knowledge of German at the 
start, i't would be foolish for an American to go to Vienna 
unless he can stay there at least a year, for it will take him 




HOW TO STAY. ,63 

half that time to acquire enough command of the language to 
profit by the courses. He would better go to New York, 
where today the instruction is just as valuable to all intents 
and purposes, save in the matter of the prestige given by the 
reputation of having worked in the foreign hospitals. To 
study a year in Vienna is likely to cost about the same as a 
year at Harvard—perhaps $700 being the average expend¬ 
iture by the economical. Munich is cheaper and the instruc¬ 
tion is excellent, though not so varied as in Vienna. At 
Munich the American shows his diploma, matriculates on 
payment of a small fee, and then gets the clinics without 
charge. At Paris the student can see but not participate. 
Dublin is the favorite place for lying-in work. Zurich is the 
only place where women can take the courses. The medical 
student going abroad should take with him a few of the 
leading standard books in English; if he is a specialist, he 
should take with him the w r orks on his specialty. 

LANGUAGE STUDY. 

The large cities are not the best places for either children 
or adults to acquire the languages. There are too many 
chances to lapse into English, and furthermore slang, 
“argot,” flourishes most in the rank city soil. In France, for 
instance, the purest Fretich is found in Tours, not in Paris; 
the best Italian is heard in Siena, not in Rome. German is 
well learned at any of the university towns, but whether it is 
better to learn the accent of northern or of southern Germany 
is an open question. The people of Berlin and those of 
Munich accuse each other of talking provincial German. 
Likewise in Spain you will find the Spanish of Madrid differ¬ 
ing much from that of Seville and Cadiz. There is more of 
the lisp in Madrid, and in Seville the speech is nearer that 
of the Spanish in Central and South America. In Italy there 
is even more variation in dialect. A Neapolitan can with 
difficulty understand a Venetian speaking rapidly, and the 
Roman use of the tongue is like neither Neapolitan nor 
V enetian. 

For purposes of general language study, where unusual 
achievement in any one is not contemplated, perhaps Geneva 


164 


GOING ABROAD? 


is the best place on the Continent. As the three languages, 
French, German, and Italian, are spoken in the three regions 
of Switzerland, good teachers of any <or all of them are 
readily found at Geneva. It is a Puritanical sort of place, 
where a young person would have to work hard to get out 
of the paths of rectitude; and there is nothing frivolous about 
the city of John Calvin; but that makes it all the more at¬ 
tractive to the studious and the sedate. Its surroundings 
are charming, giving plenty of chance for delightful rambles 
and excursions. At Lausanne, half way along the lake, 
Gibbon found the best place to finisilThis immortal work. 

Any one desiring to master French in order to teach it, 
will do best at Paris, where the Sorbonne gives during the 
winter and spring the best chance for scientific study of the 
language. In the summer an admirable opportunity is fur¬ 
nished by the vacation courses of “’L*Alliance Francaise,” 
the strong society for propagating the French language. 
The attendance has grown in five years from 50 to 500, and 
no better testimony of the work of the institution could be 
cited. The courses are planned for the benefit of foreigners 
of any nationality or age and of either sex. They are given 
in the amphitheatre of the Colonial School on the Avenue 
de 1’ Observatoirc,—in what might be called a collegiate 
neighborhood, not the old Latin Quarter, but close by,— 
where pensions and furnished apartments of moderate price 
abound. 

There are two series of courses, one occupying July and 
the other August. A course consists of from five to ten 
lessons in charge of some eminent French professor. Typical 
subjects in 1899 were—Historical and Comparative Gram¬ 
mar of Modern French; French Literature of the 17th Cen¬ 
tury; the Institutions of France; Elocution and Pronuncia¬ 
tion. Then there are conferences devoted to the practice of 
conversation or phonetic exercises. At the end of each 
month examinations may be taken for diplomas,—an ele¬ 
mentary diploma for candidates who prove that they under¬ 
stand, read and write the language fluently, a superior 
diploma for those who prove themselves capable of teaching 
the language and its literature. 


HOW TO STAY. 


165 

All told about 150 lessons and 24 conferences are open 
in the course of the two months to holders of season tickets, 
the price of which is $20. Any one not caring to attend them 
all may buy not less than 25 tickets (one for each lesson) at 
20 cents apiece, and then as many more single tickets at this 
price as may be desired. Candidates for the elementary 
diploma must attend 30 lessons; for the superior diploma, 
all the courses of one of the two series; and candidates pay 
$2 for taking the examinations. 

Members of the Alliance take pains to make agreeable 
ihe sojourn of the students. Receptions, excursions and 
other entertainments serve both for diversion and acquaint¬ 
ance. More than 1500 places at the theatre are put at the 
service of the students in the course of a summer. 

Information about the arrangements of each year can be 
secured by addressing L’Alliance Francaise, 45, Rue de 
Grenelle, Paris, after April 1. An Illustrated Guide to Paris 
for the Foreign Student will be mailed from the same address 
for 35 cents; it contains information about all the public and 
private courses to which foreigners are admitted, and special 
attention is given to the summer courses; also it has a list of 
families that will take foreign students as boarders. 

The dilettante student who prefers to imbibe -the lan¬ 
guage, will make the quickest progress by turning his back 
on Parisian opportunities for hearing and speaking his own 
tongue. Let him seek some provincial town of Normandy 
or Touraine, preferably the latter. Good teachers will charge 
from 50 cents to $1 an hour, but if one settles in a pension 
where there are no Americans, or gets into a private family, 
he will in time acquire a working knowledge of the language 
without special instruction. 

For English-speaking people with some preliminary 
knowledge of French, the Teachers’ Guild arranges Modern 
Language Holiday Courses that are given in August, to 
meet the needs of vacationists. In 1900 the courses were to 
be held in Lisieux (Normandy), lasting four weeks, and in 
Tours, lasting three weeks. The fee of $10.20 admits to the 
lectures in French by able professors, and to a conversa¬ 
tion class, The Guild makes special arrangements with 


i66 


GOING ABROAD? 


pensions, and it was estimated that starting from London the 
whole cost of the Lisieux course, tuition fee, fares, living 
and all would be about $50; of the Tours course, $ 60. Send 12 
cents to the Secretary of the Guild at 74, Gower St., W. C., 
London, for a prospectus of the present arrangements. One 
need not be a teacher in order to join, but at least a slight 
knowledge of French is essential to getting any profit from the 
courses. 


MUSIC, ART, AND OTHER STUDIES. 

To achieve the greatest triumphs in musiic, it is agreed 
that some F.uropean study is necessary, but how much it 
should be, where it should be taken, and how early it should 
begin are disputed questions. One American who has been 
through it, says: “I would advise American girls who ex¬ 
pect to study music professionally, to do all the foundation 
work at home; as good teachers may be had there for $2.50 
a lesson as those in London who charge twice as much. 
When they have been thoroughly drilled in the rudiments, 
then they can come to London to be finished, but all the rest 
can be done quite as well in Chicago or New York.” 

Christine Nilsson thinks differently in the matter of cul¬ 
tivating the voice. Says she: “At present, in view of the 
scarcity of good professors of singing in America, the earlier 
a young American pupil comes abroad to begin her studies, 
the better. The placing of the voice is a most necessary and 
delicate point in the early stages of the cultivation of that 
organ, and requires a teacher of great tact and intelligence 
to perfect it. Many young American girls come abroad 
with their voices injured by injudicious training, and even 
when the evil can be repaired, it is only ait the cost of the 
expenditure of time and money, both of which can ill be 
spared. As regards the different schools for singing, it is 
an obvious fact that the Italian method is by far the best. It 
is true that my own teacher, Wartel, was a Frenchman, but 
his method was one peculiar to himself, and I know of no 
professor who now continues it. He died several years ago. 
The German method is probably the worst of all, especially 
for the delicate voices of American girls.” 


HOW TO STAY. 


167 


Madame Melba thinks that for the average singer Amer¬ 
ica offers most excellent teachers; she can find all she needs 
at home. For operatic singers some foreign training is prac¬ 
tically necessary, so long as impresarios consider Europe 
their market, and retired artists make it their home. But she 
says. “No girl, unless she has money to throw away—I 
mean by this a large fortune to spend—should go abroad fcor 
v-oical instruction until she 'has been passed upon musically by 
at least two or three artists,—people who value the glory and 
fame of their art, and the life, and perhaps the honor of the 
would-be singer too highly to advise her to enter upon a 
career of privation and hardship where there is for her, by 
Nature’s fixed decree, no possibility of success. If possible, 
these artists should be strangers to the singer,—people who 
will not be moved or swayed by any personal interest, and 
will, therefore, speak only the truth. But only those so 
passed upon, and those others who can afford to indulge a 
hobby, should ever go abroad few instruction.” 

Said Campanini: “For the mechanical training of the 
voice, it does not matter what country furnishes the curri¬ 
culum, but for proper phrasing and beauty of style I would 
recommend Italy. In France, I admit, there are very good 
schools, but I do not approve of the tremolo that is taught 
in them. In Italy they have almost perfect methods for 
properly placing the voice. The schools of Italy are also 
noted for teaching dramatic expression.” 

The study of music in Paris is very far from inexpensive. 
The most eminent teacher of vocal music demands $70 a 
month and will take no one who will not begin with her from 
the very rudiments of the art. The rule is from $3 to $5 a les¬ 
son, or from $50 to $70 a month, for the best teachers, pupils 
being expected to take three lessons a week. In London the 
music teachers of the first rank charge from $5 to $10 a les¬ 
son, and teach only certain things, separate instruction being 
required when French, German or Italian is to be learned. 

Germany gets most of the students of instrumental 
music, and Berlin has taken the lead in their instruction. It 
is said that more than 2000 Americans pass each winter there 
in music study. The city has 120 music conservatories, and 


i68 


GOING ABROAD? 


nearly a thousand concerts of one kind or another are given 
between Oct. i and May i. The masters of the profession 
charge from $5 to $10 an hour for private lessons, but the 
conservatories are very much lower in price. The Royal 
High School for Music offers yearly several free scholarships 
for which students of all nations may compete. Admission 
to concerts is cheap according to American notions; some 
of the best orchestral music can be heard at “popular con¬ 
certs” twice a week for 10 cents. Without great hardship 
the economical student can reduce living expenses to $25 or 
even $20 a month. 

The expense of studying art on the Continent is no¬ 
where so great as it is in New York. As one student in 
Paris says: “A fellow can live as he pleases. I wear only 
the oldest clothes,—all the fellows do, and no one thinks 
anything of it. The rent of the studios is very cheap, and 
the tuition in the best studios is but $4 a month.” 

American children would better be educated in American 
schools. Perhaps for the sake of the language a boy might 
well pass a year in some Continental school, but a girl would 
better study in America till she is well grounded in the rudi¬ 
ments of knowledge. If she is then to study abroad for a 
while, le't it be in one of the pension schools (boarding 
schools) of Switzerland rather than of Paris. A year there 
should give her a mastery of French, but if German is the 
object, two years of schooling in Germany will be none too 
little. 

For purposes of miscellaneous study perhaps Dresden 
offers the most attractions. At any rate nearly 3000 English- 
speaking people mav be found in residence there, most of 
them more or less studious in their intentions. Berlin and 
Hanover offer better advantages in German and literature. 
Berlin, Weimar and Leipsic have more famous schools for 
music. Paris, Florence and Rome take the lead in painting 
and art. But one does not find in any one of these cities all 
the facilities for the study of German, literature, music, 
painting, and decorative art combined as in Dresden. This 
concentration of advantages, in an age when the rapid at¬ 
tainment of knowledge means so much, must account for 


HOW TO STAY. 


169 

Dresden’s attracting so many visitors, for its climate, during 
the winter season at any rate, is very far from delightful. 


FEES. 


No other foreign custom perplexes and annoys the 
American so much as that of feeing. He has been brought up 
in the belief that a service without a price demands no recom¬ 
pense. Save where the fee system has wormed its way into 
our larger cities, as in their larger hotels, he has been ac¬ 
customed to pay the proprietor of any one establishment for 
all the work done for him by its employees. The spirit of 
independence and self-reliance, ingrained in his very nature, 
has made it natural for him to do for himself all he can, to 
accept from others the minimum of aid in all personal mat¬ 
ters,—in his favorite phrase, “to paddle his own canoe.” 

From the moment he lands in Europe he finds a state of 
affairs directly contrary to all his experience,—porters ag¬ 
grieved if he carries his bag across the railway platform, 
cabmen astounded if he walks to his hotel, other porters 
lying in wait to lug up stairs even an umbrella, somebody 
solicitous to unlock his trunk. He starts out to see the town; 
before he can get through the door, the portier bustles up to 
offer his help, to suggest the sights, to name good shops, to 
call a cab. Outside, half a dozen cabmen snap their whips 
and beg his patronage; from one to a dozen guides may 
urge their aid. He comes to a celebrated church; some 
pitiful pauper opens the door or lifts the curtain; within, a 
sexton or sacristan presents himself to show its sights, to un¬ 
lock the gates of a chapel, to take him into the crypt. He 
reaches a museum; running the gauntlet of guides, he gets in 
only to find an attendant in everyroom, sometimes taking 
a card list of pictures from a table and offering it to him, 
sometimes unlocking a door kept locked merely to force 
strangers to ask that it may be opened, sometimes volunteer¬ 
ing needless information. And so it goes, from one end of 
Europe to the other, always somebody at hand to thrust ser¬ 
vices upon you, and every mother’s son of them expecting 


i;o 


GOING ABROAD? 


recompense. If the tariff is fixed, more is invariably wanted, 
the extra amount being the perquisite of the person with 
whom you come in contact. 

It is no use to fuss over it, to say hard things about it, 
to begrudge the cost. Take it as a matter of course, look 
at it reasonably and judiciously, study it, and conform to it. 

Lay down two rules of action and adhere to them: 

1. Accept no service that you are not willing to remu¬ 
nerate. 

2. Fee only those who do something for you. 

If you want to carry your own luggage, carry it. If you 
want to walk,—why, walk. What folly to ride simply because 
half a dozen dirty scoundrels,—at least, they look as if they 
might be scoundrels, and are most assuredly dirty,—act as if 
they expected you to ride! If you can see in a church or 
museum by yourself all that you care to see, why give some¬ 
body a franc and be bored with his company, rather than 
tell him you don’t want a guide? Guides are sometimes use¬ 
ful, sometimes necessary, but as to when and where, believe 
your guide-book rather than the man who wants you to 
hire him. 

Cabs are often wise economy, hotel people have their 
uses, even luggage porters may be of great service. Use 
them when you want them, always with the certainty that 
everybody below your own station in life expects to be paid 
for what he does for you. The gentle art of doing favors, 
as practiced in America, is unknown abroad. 

I overdraw the thing purposely, that the reader may get 
into the right frame of mind. There are many Europeans 
of humble rank who are hospitable or courteous without 
mercenary motives, but even they are almost invariably will¬ 
ing to have their courtesy or hospitality rewarded if you 
choose. Once a New England brakeman, a complete 
stranger, found an umbrella of mine and returned it to me 
with some trouble; he would not listen to the idea of taking 
any reward. His features showed that he was of Yankee 
birth, and his attitude in this matter was that of the genuine 
American. He had done for me something he had not been 
hired to do, had riot been asked to do, and the satisfaction 
of having performed a courteous action was all the reward 


HOW TO STAY. 171 

he wanted. That attitude is the rule with us; it is the ex¬ 
ception, and the rare exception, abroad. 

So be prepared to pay for everything, and when you 
get a gratuitous favor, tell the man his rightful place is in - 
America; at the same time, encourage the pernicious Euro¬ 
pean system by rewarding him for not expecting a reward. 
A hundred to one he’ll take it! 

To urge that fees be given only to those who do a 
service, is* advice that seems needless, yet would that it were 
heeded by the Americans who go through Europe with the 
notion that every man or woman into whose hands they can 
get a coin is a deserving victim of misfortune! Perhaps it 
is a duty for us to distribute our savings at random among 
the lower classes of Europe, but I can’t see why, unless we 
ought to make it up to them for the cruelty of Providence in 
planting them there. 

Generosity is an admirable trait, but every officer of 
Associated Charities will tell you that its excess does more 
hurt than its absence. 

The people with whom a traveler comes in contact are 
not paupers. Most of them earn as much as they deserve. 
In some of the Parisian cafes a waiter’s place commands a 
big bonus; that is, men are glad to pay large sums to get 
the chance for fees. Did you know that in some of our big 
American hotels the head porter gets every fee given to 
under porters; that he pays them wages, and pays the land¬ 
lord for the privilege of doing the work? Your extra dime 
helps enrich a man you never saw. Likewise in many Euro¬ 
pean hotels all fees given to waiters are pooled, and the man 
you want to reward particularly, gets perhaps only a very 
small percentage of your bounty. 

For this reason, never fee both the head waiter and 
your table waiter. But you must always fee one or the 
other. 

The portier is the only exception to the rule not to give 
if nothing is done. It is an unwritten law that he shall be 
maintained by the public, not by the landlord. He is a useful 
institution, of service to the traveling public as a class, and 


172 


GOING ABROAD? 


as one of that class, you are morally bound to help pay his 
cost. 

If the chambermaid does for you anything outside her 
routine work, she should get a fee, always small; otherwise 
she may be ignored when sihe lies in wait for you as you 
descend the hotel stairs for the last time, though as a matter 
of fact you are likely to feel that she needs the fee more than 
anybody else, and perhaps deserves it more, so that your 
conscience will rest the easier if you remember her. 

The declaration of too many tourists that you must fee 
everybody in a European hotel, is all nonsense. The indis- 
pensables are the portier, if the hotel has one, the waiter, 
and whoever handles trunks or blacks boots. The others 
are mere charities. 

I am informed that in Saxony and in Austria courts 
have sustained servants in suits to secure fees. The Saxony 
case was brought against a commercial traveler who stayed 
four weeks at a hotel and offered the “boots” a dollar en his 
departure. The aggrieved boots gat a verdict of $2.50. Prob¬ 
ably the commercial traveler’s trunks had something to do 
with t'he case. In Vienna, it is reported, a servant may hold, 
the guest’s baggage if the fee is not large enough. 

As to amounts, the easy and common rule is to give 
10 per cent, of the bill if you stay but one night or take a 
single meal. This applies whether the bill is twenty cents or 
two dollars or twenty dollars. A penny in the shilling is all 
that English waiters expect; ten centimes (or two cents) in 
the franc all that French waiters expect. Where a hotel bill 
is above $2, a percentage as low as five per cent, may be 
given without surprise. On paying a bill of $5 ait a hotel 
it would be the usual thing to give the waiter twenty cents, 
the portier twenty cents, and the chambermaid five cents. 
On paying $8 you might give no more and no comment 
would be even looked; or you might make it thirty cents for 
the waiter, the same for the portier, and five or ten cents 
for the chambermaid. 

The Paris New York Herald sent a series of questions 
about the tipping system to all the leading hotel keepers of 
Europe. Most of them in reply advised from twenty to fony 


HOW TO STAY. 


i73 

cents a week for each servant, which, as hotel rates run, 
makes about the ten per cent. I have advised, if, say, five 
servants get remembered. Nearly all the correspondents 
stated that their servants did not depend entirely on the tips 
received for their living, as they received salaries. It was 
to be noted, however, that the salaries were seldom stated 
to be more than $8 a month. 

Summed up, the symposium seemed to prove that the 
tipping system is too firmly fixed to be abolished; that it 
procures better service for the traveler; that it makes the 
servants more contented, and renders them more valuable 
to the employer; and that the person who tips carefully gets 
just as good service as the one who tips indiscriminately. 
One piece of information given is that hotel keepers while 
traveling are very sparing of their tips. 

Never pay any fees before the time of departure except 
when making a stay of many weeks in a pension. You are 
not expected in hotels to dole out the pennies or francs from 
meal to meal, or, indeed, at any time before you go away. 
But if practicable it is well in large hotels to distribute the 
fees before it is known that you are going to leave, as other¬ 
wise you may find yourself encumbered with needless atten¬ 
tion from servants, who may hitherto have neglected you, 
perhaps may not even have shown themselves. 

Look at it purely as a matter of business. If you 
haven’t the change, make the waiter or the porter or who¬ 
ever you want to fee, get your money changed, and then 
give him what you meant to give, no more. In an Ameri¬ 
can hotel that would be thought stingy; abroad it is thought 
the natural thing. 

In pensions, ten per cent, of the bills would be an un¬ 
usual distribution. If you stay several weeks, five per cent, 
will be a great plenty, and two or three per cent, is probably 
nearer the common thing. 

The idea that even servants in private houses must be 
feed, is the most repugnant of all to American instincts. 
Yet go to a mansion of rank for even a stay over night and 
you are expected to remember the butler and the footman. 
Americans overdo the thing, as always in the matter of fees, 


174 


GOING ABROAD? 


and anger the more penurious of their British cousins by 
treating dollars as if they were shillings. The notion is wrong 
that fees are to be given on the occasion of a single meal 
in a British household; they are expected only from those 
who pass a night or more. 

Do not suppose that the system flourishes whithout pro¬ 
tests. The Duke of Fife, with whom King Edward stays 
during his annual visits to Scotland, has tried hard to 
prevent the giving of tips at New Mar Lodge, by posting 
a formal warning against it in the guest chambers, and it is 
known that the King shares the Duke’s views of the matter. 
In many castles and chateaux a box is placed in the hall, 
where guests may put whatever it is their pleasure to give 
the servants, and at intervals its contents are fairly distributed 
among them all. Tourists who are shown through Eaton 
Hall, the magnificent country place of the Duke of West¬ 
minster, are forbidden to give fees to the attendants, and in 
lieu thereof pay an entrance fee devoted to charitable objects. 
At a few other “show places” there is an attempt to accom¬ 
plish the same end. Occasionally there is a hotel where 
notices in the rooms beg travelers not to give fees and it is 
declared that the servants are amply paid. Employes of Eng¬ 
lish railroads are forbidden to receive fees, but there at least 
the prohibition is ludicrously ineffective. “Tuppence,” four 
cents, is in practice the legal tender fee on British railroads. 

The garcon (waiter) at a cafe gets fees of one or two 
cents, usually the latter, for serving beverages. Cab drivers 
are usually made happy by ten per cent., with either four or 
five cents as the minimum, according as the unit of coinage 
corresponds to our 20 or 25 cents. In such a place as Naples, 
where the prescribed fare is abnormally low, only 14 cents, 
to give a lira, twenty cents, is frequent. 

In museums and galleries, fees of half a franc, or half a 
lira, or half a shilling, or whatever the unit may be, pre¬ 
dominate. It is always safe to start on that; if more is the 
custom, don’t fear that you will not be told of it. Two 
people traveling together need give no more than the solitary 
tourist. 

The fees expected by concierges or janitors are a con- 


HOW TO STAY. 


i75 


stant source of complaint by Americans dwelling abroad. 
The concierge is an autocrat, a tyrant, an unmitigated irri¬ 
tant. But the despot must be feed. In Vienna, for example, 
the front door of every apartment house is required by law 
to be closed and locked at 10 o’clock every night. Not a 
tenant may have a latch-key, but after that hour must ring 
up the janitor, who gets for his trouble the inevitable 10 
kreuzers. As a consequence the streets are alive with hurry¬ 
ing people up to the fatal hour, and after that are as dead 
as a country village. It is usual for even the theatres to 
time themselves so that the spectators may be saved their 10 
kreuzers. 

New Year’s day is the time when the concierge reaps 
his or her big harvest. In Paris the occupant of a modest 
apartment is expected then to give at least $5, and “en- 
trennes” of $10 or $20 are not uncommon. Every small- 
salaried underling also levies tribute in the most barefaced 
way, making the rounds of his neighborhood and frankly 
asking for his present. It is averred that the postal employes 
in France could not live on the miserable salaries they get 
were it not for the annual bonus from the public. The ordinary 
carrier gets $20 a month, and expects to add to this at least 
$50 at New Year’s. There are postmen of different grades, 
depending on the class of mail they carry; each class appoints 
representatives to collect money from every district, and 
the money is then divided. A stranger generally makes the 
mistake of giving a good sum to the first postman who calls, 
not knowing that two others will follow him to -collect for 
their class. They begin their rounds about the first of De¬ 
cember, with calendars, worth about half a cent, to present 
to each person on the list. They are very polite. If it is 
not convenient to pay the money that day they will trust you 
for the calendar and “pass again.” 

All the servants must be remembered with hard cash— 
not with mittens or shawls or neckties, if you please, but with 
cash. In Parisian families the French maids cling to the 
old fiction of a month’s wages, or what used to be a good 
month’s wages, $5 a month, as a proper New Year’s gift. 
This has by general custom become reduced to a gold piece, 


176 


GOING ABROAD? 


$4, for a servant that has remained more than a year in the 
family, and $2 for those who have been in service for a 
shorter time. This sum is given in the most perfunctory way 
and conventional thanks are returned in the same manner. 
The German and English servants who have of late years 
flocked to Paris do not expect so much in the way of a 
present, for they demand higher wages than the French-born 
maid usually receives. 

The cabman expects a fee bigger than usual. The bus 
conductor expects two cents more than the ordinary fare. 
The butcher boy and every other tradesman’s employe who 
comes into the house counts on going out the richer. The 
cafe waiters offer a very Cheap and very bad cigar to every 
regular patron, expecting in return a franc or two. And so 
it goes until the close-fisted man wishes the New Year in 
perdition, and even the generous man with an ample purse 
finds it emptied, at least of all the silver. 


CHAPTER VII. 


PIOVV TO SEE. 

Up to times within the memory of living men, almost 
no one of means traveled through Europe without a courier. 
Before railroads were built and before good guide books 
were printed, he was almost indispensable. His tribe sur¬ 
vives, but in greatly diminished numbers. To the self- 
reliant traveler he is of no use whatever. Indeed, he is fre¬ 
quently a positive encumbrance, and worse. 

The time may have been when a courier could save a 
traveler more than his cost. Most certainly that is not the 
case now. On the contrary, as he gets a percentage on 
every purchase his party makes (which, of course, comes 
out of the purchaser in increased price), and as it is often for 
his interest to advise the more costly route, the more costly 
hotel, or the more costly excursion, he eats up much more 
than his wages, while saving positively nothing. In a two 
weeks’ trip in Southern Spain, which we made side by side 
with a couple having a courier, we invariably reached the 
hotel first, got the better rooms, saw all the sights to as good 
advantage; yet the courier was of his kind an expert. The 
fact is that travel has become so general; tourist companies, 
railroads, and landlords have so well studied its needs; books 
are so plentiful, that one couldn’t very well get off the track 
or have a mishap if he tried. 

Doubtless the decay of the courier has also been in some 
measure due to the growth of the “personally conducted 
party.” Every year sees more Americans going abroad 
under the guidance of people who make a business or an 
avocation of conducting tours. I have already alluded to 


177 


i7» 


GOING ABROAD? 


some of the disadvantages of this mode of travel, such as the 
limitations of inflexible itineraries. It may with perfect fair¬ 
ness also be pointed out that many people find it distasteful 
to travel with the notoriety that attaches to a considerable 
group of sight-seers. The name of the inventor of the ex¬ 
cursion system has been made the basis of a generic term, 
and as the carriages of any large party roll along the boule¬ 
vards of Paris, one may hear the comment, “There go a 
batch of Cookies!” There is, in fact, no valid reason why 
one should feel chagrined at the comment, no valid reason 
why one should not enjoy art or architecture or scenery in 
the company of his fellow men just as he enjoys music or 
acting or eloquence in their company, but logical or not, it 
is the faot that many of us prefer to wander through museums 
and cathedrals and palaces alone or with few companions. 

Against this set the helpfulness of a leader who knows in 
advance what is worth seeing and why and where, who 
abounds with pertinent anecdote and reminiscence, who can 
save time and trouble. Assume that he commands the lan¬ 
guage, that he is a past master in the art of time-tables, that 
he is a connoisseur in the matter of restaurants, that he is a 
very Solomon in knowledge of hotels. May not the leader¬ 
ship of such a ma'n be worth the buying? May not it pay 
to have a joint ownership for two or three months in this 
embodiment of experience? 

Perhaps so. But at any rate it is worth while reckoning 
up tthe cost in advance. Some of the projectors of these 
personally-conducted parties appear to set a pretty high val¬ 
uation on their services, and their profits may or may not be 
warranted. Others are offering prices that are reasonable, 
even cheap. Of course people take up this business like any 
other, for profit, and a fair profit should not be denied them, 
but it is a foolish customer who buys without any idea as to 
whether the goods are worth the money. To determine it 
approximately, take the itinerary offered; set down from $100 
to $200 for the ocean passages, according to the steamer, 
cabin and season; multiply the aggregate of rail distance by 
the average figures for fares I have given in a preceding 
Chapter; allow $2.50 a day, the price of Cook coupons, for 


HOW TO SEE. 


179 

Continental hotel bills, and $3 a day in Great Britain; throw 
in 50 cents a day for carriages, entrance fees, etc. The total 
will be not so ver> far from a reasonable price for the trans¬ 
portation and subsistence ordinarily offered. Whether tftie 
gain the tourist company or manager makes through dis¬ 
counts for parties, through the lower prices of hotels in 
towns, and in other legitimate ways, will offset the traveling 
expenses of the conductor by more than, enough to give a 
fair profit, is a business problem that is the concern of the 
merchant in tours. I submit merely that he may not fairly 
demand much in excess of the gross, retail cost of transpor¬ 
tation and subsistence. 

I have taken occasion to commend the helpfulness and 
courtesy of the tourist agencies. Let me here add that I 
have never heard their integrity questioned. Their man¬ 
agers and their agents surpass the average of business men 
in fair dealing and honorable methods. They are a useful 
and valuable factor in the world of travel. And they would 
not thrive if they were not helpful to many people. Their 
personally-conducted tours and many of those organized by 
individuals are all right, for people who like that sort of 
thing. Such people, however, need not quarrel with me be¬ 
cause to my mind one of the great pleasures of travel is in 
learning travel by myself, and because I find satisfaction, 
pleasure and education in planning routes, deciphering time 
tables, making bargains, learning by observation the lay of 
the land. 

Every place in Europe worth the seeing has its local 
guides, speaking your language, better acquainted with the 
place than any courier can be, and usually to be employed 
at reasonable rates. Whether you will employ them de¬ 
pends entirely on your own tastes. Usually they are not in¬ 
dispensable. Often, however, they will take you to places it 
would be harder for you to find by yourself; now and then 
they know something the guide-book does not tell; if you 
are completely ignorant of the language, occasionally their 
services in interpreting w'ill be of much help. 

London and Paris have bureaus of “lady” guides that I 
hear commended for their services in aiding both sight- 


i8o 


GOING ABROAD? 


seeing and shopping. The guides are said to be women of 
refinement and intelligence, and were not the word “lady” 
so vulgarly misused in the title of these institutions, an Amer¬ 
ican woman might make use of them at least without preju¬ 
dice and very likely with advantage. 

Whenever you hire a guide and he takes you to some 
place where fees are probable, make him tell you before you 
enter what fees you are to give, thus determining the cost 
in advance and avoiding the embarrassment of consulting 
him in the presence of the person to be feed. 

If you plan to do a place by yourself, it is desirable to 
have a list prepared of the things to be seen, or at any rate, 
to check them in the guide book. Then immediately on 
arrival at the hotel, ask when you can see places not certain 
to be accessible at all times. Museums are usually closed on 
one day of the week; churches may be open only at certain 
hours. The times for these things frequently change, and 
no guide book can keep up with all the changes. If you 
neglect this precaution, you may find a day wasted, and even 
miss altogether seme important place that you might just 
as well have seen early in your stay. 

When time is an object, it is well to plan in advance 
your whole stay in any given city, allotting so much work to 
each day. The conscientious sight-seer spends his evenings 
in studying up what he is to see the next day. To postpone 
reading up a place till after you enter it, often results in miss¬ 
ing important features, or in not comprehending them. 

Any but an impecunious tourist should prescribe to him¬ 
self the rule, “Never walk in order to save money.” Or if 
he insists on being parsimonious, let him reflect that “time 
is money” to a sight-seer, and that if the journey is of the 
hurried variety, it is more profitable to save minutes than to 
save pennies. Cab? are plenty and cab-hire is cheap; cars 
and busses abound in all the cities, and their fares are trivial. 
Distances are long in places like London and Paris, and one 
needs all his strength for the galleries and palaces and the 
other places where one must walk. A summer tourist should 
not begrudge twenty or thirty dollars for cabs. 

Yet it is not the fact that cabs always save the most time. 


HOW TO SEE. 


1S1 


If one is larded on the dock at Liverpool instead of the 
landing-stage, he will find at the very outset that time will 
be saved if he will take the trouble to walk to the street and 
climb the stairs to the elevated train. It is several miles from 
the centre of Liverpool to the docks of the American pas¬ 
senger boats, and the trains are the quickest way to cover 
them. Baggage can be sent in town safely by an expressman, 
and will be promptly delivered. The elevated train, too, gives 
the best chance to see Liverpool’s biggest sight, the docks. 

Plebeian though it may seem, there is no better way to 
see the street life of a city than from the top of an omnibus. 
Virtually all the ’buses abroad and most of the street cars 
have seats on top, often with a fare cheaper than that of the 
inside seats, yet far more desirable for the tourist. Women 
and men alike mount the steps, and though the aristocratic 
native will hire a cab when she does not use her own car¬ 
riage, no American woman need fear ridicule or even em¬ 
barrassment if she goes about on the top of a bus. At first 
she hesitates, but very soon the convenience and profit of 
seeing city streets from such a point of vantage overcome 
all scruples, and once accustomed to riding on top, nothing 
but rain will drive her inside. By the way, it is not the cus¬ 
tom, and in Paris it is forbidden, to change from outside to 
interior while the bus or car is in motion. A novice who 
tried it in Paris relates to me with an amusement she did 
not at the time feel, how the conductor put her off the bus 
when a shower led her to change her place. 

On the continent a sightseer- who neglects the cafes and 
beer gardens misses one of the most diverting and instructive 
characteristics of European life. We Americans have come 
to entertain such a justifiable abhorrence of the drinking 
saloon that we find it hard to conceive of drinking resorts 
where decent, self-respecting people may congregate, and 
yet just such resorts are the greatest daily pleasure of thous¬ 
ands on thousands of the temperate, respectable people of 
France and Germany and other Continental nations. In the 
Latin countries, where wine is the most common beverage, 
the cafe tables choke the sidewalks during all the warm 
weather. In the Germanic countries, beer and orchestras 


GOING ABROAD? 


182 

appear inseparable, and the tables are usually in enclosures 
to which potted shrubs give the name of gardens. Here 
whole families come to gossip and listen. The drinking is 
the excuse, not the reason, and a glass or two of beer or 
wine or what we should call soda is quite enough of a pre¬ 
text to occupy a seat during a whole evening. Anywhere 
in the Latin countries it is quite the proper thing after a 
table d’hote dinner at the hotel, to find the best cafe in 
town and spend an hour or two over a cup of black coffee, 
looking at the illustrated papers, listening to music, chatting 
with other members of the party, or making the acquaint¬ 
ance easily picked up with one’s neighbors. The traveler 
who doesn’t do this will have many a long and lonely even¬ 
ing, besides throwing away his best chance to study the 
people from near at hand and when they are most them¬ 
selves. 

The parks furnish another pleasant way of observing the 
masses. To appreciate the love of a French father for his 
children and his intimacy with them, go to the Luxembourg 
Garden in Paris on a Sunday afternoon. See the modem 
Roman at his best on the Pincian Hill toward’sunset. Find 
out what vagaries the human mind can conceive by going 
from group to group on Hyde Park by the Marble Arch 
in London of a Sunday, and listening to the orators then 
revelling in free speech. 

Beware of trespassing on forbidden ground near fort¬ 
resses, and of sketching or photographing where you may 
be arrested on suspicion of seeking dangerous information. 

Pick-pockets are by no means a rarity abroad. It is said 
they frequent the Rhine steamers, all railway junctions, and 
especially the Italian cities. Personally, I never suffered at 
their hands, nor met anybody who had suffered, but the 
ordinary precautions of travel are doubtless as wise in this 
matter abroad as at home. Sharpers are said to haunt the 
Channel steamers, and on the larger trans-Atlantic boats they 
sometimes fleece the unwary. 

It may be well to inform the masculine reader that half 
the questionable sights of Paris are arranged for his special 
benefit. With so much to be seen in Europe that is beautiful 


HOW TO SEE. 


183 

and elevating and refining, it is 'hardly worth while to spend 
time and money in the hunt for debasing spectacles that can 
be just as easily found in New York, if anybody cares to 
study the dark side of human nature. 

Delightful though it may be to have the guidance of 
some relative or acquaintance dwelling in the city you may 
be visiting, yet be careful about making demands on time that 
may be begrudged from business or study. The American 
youth who dwells abroad with serious motives cannot with¬ 
out a sacrifice lay down the brush or leave the piano stool 
in order to give hours to showing his callers about the 
town. The New York merchant does not expect to roam 
from the Riverside Drive to Coney Island with every Chi¬ 
cago or Louisville or Crossroads customer that visits Man¬ 
hattan. Put yourself in the place of your host and conclude 
what may reasonably be expected or given in the way of 
time and entertainment. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 

Merchants in different countries are accustomed to pay 
:ach other by means of bills of exchange, not with cash. 
For example, Jones of New York owes a certain amount 
to Schmidt of Berlin; Braun of Berlin owes the same amount 
to Henry of New York. If Jones pays that amount to Henry 
and Braun pays an equal amount to Schmidt, the debts will 
be cancelled. Perhaps Henry accomplishes it by writing a 
draft on Braun,—an order to Braun to pay the amount in 
question to the bearer of the order,—a paper called a bill 
of exchange, which he sells to Jones. Then Jones mails the 
order to his creditor, Schmidt, who presents it to Braun 
and gets his money. This saves the expressage on two 
shipments of gold. 

When the whole body of American merchants owe 
more money abroad than is owed to them, somebody must 
ship some gold across the water. Whoever has a bill of ex¬ 
change, a draft on a. foreign merchant, can pay his foreign 
debts at the cost of a postage stamp; whoever cannot get 
such a bill must pay the cost of shipping gold. This makes 
a demand for bills of exchange, increases their value, and 
the rate of exchange is said to be high. Vice versa, when 
the foreign merchants owe the more, bills of exchange hunt 
tor purchasers, their value lessens, and the rate of exchange 
is said to be low. 

No traveler wants a large amount of gold on his per¬ 
son or in his luggage, for it is heavy and it is likely to be 
stolen. So he takes advantage of the system of bills of ex¬ 
change. He may, if he choose, buy these bills of an Amerb 
can merchant or banker, and sell them to some banker or 
merchant when he gets abroad. But it is more convenient 
■md is the common practice for him to arrange with an 

184 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 185 

American banker to honor drafts, which the traveler draws 
when and where occasion may demand. In other words, he 
sells to some foreign banker an order on the American 
banker, which then becomes a bill of exchange, and goes 
traveling through foreign banks till it finds some foreign 
merchant who wants to pay a bill in America, buys it, 
mails it to his creditor, who in turn presents it to the 
American banker and gets his money. Of course, the thing 
is complicated and modified when a banking house has many 
agencies, and you draw at one for money you have deposited 
at another, but the general principle of exchange holds. 

LETTERS OF CREDIT. 

When a banker gives you what is virtually a certificate 
that he will honor your drafts to a given amount, the paper 
is called a circular letter of credit. There is attached to it a 
list of bankers in other countries who are obligated to cash 
the drafts, but as they will be honored, whoever presents 
them to the house issuing the letter, you can sell them to 
any banker or other person not on the printed list, though it 
is customary to get drafts cashed at the banking places 
specified. 

The practice of banking houses in issuing letters of 
credit varies somewhat in the matter of terms. The simplest 
method is to sell it outright, in which case, if you pay $1000, 
you get a credit of $1000, or its exact equivalent in pounds, 
there being charged in addition a fee of one per cent, for 
issuing the credit. Under tl is method, you get no interest 
for your money; the banker has the use of it till your drafts 
are presented, and this, with his commission, and what he 
may make through the rates of exchange, is what remu¬ 
nerates him. 

Another method is for you to deposit with the banker 
what sum you please, for which you get a letter of credit 
in which the pound is figured at $5, instead of in the neigh¬ 
borhood of $4.86, its real value. As your drafts come in, 
they are figured at the prevailing rate of exchange, and you 
are debited with their amounts on that basis. Furthermore, 
you are allowed interest; at the time this is written two per 


186 


GOING ABROAD? 


cent, is being allowed, but should the demand for money 
increase, a higher rate will prevail. On your return, if you 
have not drawn to the full value of the letter, you collect 
whatever balance may stand to your credit. This method 
may be the more economical if your deposit is large and you 
do not reduce your balance rapidly. 

The letter of credit may also be secured by depositing 
with the banker high-grade securities, against which he will 
advance what money you may draw. Thus you will profit 
by what interest they may bear, and by any increase in their 
value. 

If your standing in the financial world is high, you may 
be able to arrange with the banker not to deposit either 
money or securities, but to have your drafts presented by 
him at your counting-room; it might be said that in such 
a case you deposited your credit rather than your cash. 

In return for what you pay the banker for issuing the 
letter of credit, you get these advantages: The carriage of 
your wealth in the most portable form (a sheet of paper), 
and in the safest form, for if the sheet is lost nobody can 
use it without forging your name, and by at once notifying 
your banker you can have him stop payment; the chance 
to get the money of the country at its lowest cost in every 
city you are likely to visit; the use of a list of bankers in 
whose care your mail may safely be addressed, and who will 
forward it without charge wherever you may direct; the 
chance to use the facilities for writing and newspaper read¬ 
ing with which most foreign banking houses are supplied; 
and the profits that accrue to the man who has bills of ex¬ 
change for sale. These profits are not inconsiderable, and 
instances are sometimes reported of shrewd American finan¬ 
ciers who pay a small part of the cost of a foreign trip by 
watching the local market for bills of exchange and specu¬ 
lating as they go along. Of course it takes experience and 
wide commercial knowledge to do this. 

The ordinary letters of credit are seldom issued for less 
amounts than a hundred pounds,—in round numbers, $500. 
When issued for smaller amounts they cost as much as if 
issued for the full hundred pounds. So if your ready money 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


187 


when you are about to start is less than $500, it will be 
cheaper to take it with you in some other form. The com¬ 
mon method is to buy what are really drafts for stipulated 
amounts, which can be cashed at banks, hotels, tourist agen¬ 
cies, and many other places. Some bankers issue them under 
the name of “Patent Credits,” which are sheets of checks 
for five pounds (525) each, the aggregate being $250, #500, 
$1,000, $1,500, or at the option of the buyer. They give the 
holder the same privileges in the use of foreign banking 
house conveniences that he would secure with the ordinary 
letter of credit, but you must draw your money in multi¬ 
ples of $25, while on the ordinary letter of credit you can 
draw any amount you wish, be it large or small, to the face 
value, less previous drafts, of course. The commission charge 
is one per cent., so that a “Patent Credit” for $230 can be 
secured for $2.50, where the ordinary letter of credit would 
cost $5, the commission for anything less than $500. 

The same purpose is accomplished by the “cheques” of 
the banking houses ins'ituted for this very end, and by the 
“travelers’ cheques” of the American Express Company. The 
banking house issues books of “cheques,” each of which has 
the maximum amount for which it can be drawn printed and 
perforated, but it may be drawn for any smaller amount, 
from a penny up. If checks are drawn for smaller amounts 
than the maximum, the balances are credited to the owner 
of the book, to go toward a new book or to be refunded- 
The system, therefore, has the advantage of permitting the 
holder of a book to pay his bills with checks exactly as he 
would at home, and virtually amounts to a bank deposit 
against which the depositor can readily draw without the 
need of personal acquaintance with the person to whom the 
check is paid. As with ordinary banks there is no charge for 
opening the account, and the bank gets its profit from the 
use of the money ; it allows a small rate of interest. 

The American Express Company system is one of checks 
in fixed denominations of $10, $20, $50, $100, and $200, with 
the exact foreign money equivalents paid therefor (in gold or 
its equivalent) in the principal countries of Europe, printed 
on each check. This certainty as to what he is to receive 


i88 


GOING ABROAD? 

is an advantage to the holder unacquainted with foreign 
currencies, or exposed to deception, but the chief merit of 
the express checks is the ease with which they can be cashed. 
Hotel and shop-keepers all along the general routes will 
accept them in payment of bills, or will cash them. Ihe 
banker is not always easily found, or in such a city as Paris 
your pension may be a mile or two away. Banking rooms 
are open only in the daytime, and on Sundays and fete days 
but a few hours if at all, so that to reach them at the right 
time in hurried traveling you may have to waste a day. 
Thus, even if you carry the bulk of your money in the form 
of a letter of credit, it may be wise to have express orders 
on hand for speedy use. Furthermore, you can cash them in 
smaller amounts than you like to get at a banker’s. The ad¬ 
vantage of getting a small amount also counts sometimes 
when you are about to go from one country to another, 
an<i haven’t quite ready money enough, as, if you draw a 
considerable sum from the banker, you may lose on 
the exchange when you get in'o the other country. Als«, 
if the members of a family or traveling party are to separate 
for a while, the checks may be divided between them. Iden¬ 
tification is secured by comparison of signatures. The com¬ 
mission for issuing is half of one per cent. They are sold 
for cash; under guaranty of the buyer and a responsible 
bank, trust company, or banker; or against deposits of cash 
or high-grade marketable securities. Their one disadvantage 
is that they allow no chance for profiting by fluctuations 
in the rate of exchange. Were it not for this, their reason¬ 
able cost and many conveniences would make them even 
more popular than they now are. 

CURRENCY. 

Gold is the international standard of value in Europe, 
and nominally an ounce of gold has the same purchasing 
power the world over, no matter how it may be labelled. 
Yet even gold is liable to the local fluctuations of demand 
and supply; in Gibraltar, for example, by reason of the trade 
relations with England, a given amount of gold minted at 
London may command a higher premium than an equal 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


189 

amount minted at Paris. Where the demands of exchange 
do not affect the matter, a coin is naturally worth more in 
its own country than in another, so that if you were going 
from France to Germany it would be wiser to buy German 
gold in Paris than to wait till you reached Berlin and there 
buy it with French gold. For the same reason, do not ex¬ 
pect to sell at a premium what foreign gold you may bring 
home with you from Europe. 

I have been told that United States one and two dollar 
bills command a considerable premium in many parts of 
Europe, by reason, I suppose, of their utility in making small 
remittances to the States by mail, but when I acted on this 
and sent a dollar bill to a London house to pay for merchan¬ 
dise priced at four shillings and two pence, they sent word 
asking me in future to remember that they had to sell such 
bills at a discount. Yet somewhere I was assured that an 
American traveler had made a considerable sum by carrying 
a big roll of American bills to Europe with him and selling 
them to money changers. 

The paper money of several countries is a depreciated 
currency, and is nowhere worth its face value. The effect 
is deceptive. You go to Italy, for instance, with the im¬ 
pression that a lira is worth a franc, and when you get in the 
exchange more liras than you had francs, you think you have 
made money, but your lira is worth less, it buys less, and you 
have actually profited only on paper. This statement, how¬ 
ever, must be modified by calling attention to the fact that 
prices of small articles, together with many standard rates, 
such as those of hotels and railroads, are not changed as 
currency fluctuates; when the lira drops a cent or two in 
Italy, the hotel still charges 10 liras, and a ticket from Flor¬ 
ence to Rome still has the same nominal price; so as your 
English or French gold buys more liras, you are the gainer. 
I have already pointed out that therefore it is not wise to buy 
railroad tickets in a country other than that where a depreci¬ 
ated currency prevails, for use in that country. 

A Bank of England note is as good as British gold 
anywhere in the civilized world, and is much more easy 
to carry. Furthermore, it is numbered, so that in case of 


GOING ABROAD? 


190 

loss payment can be stopped. On the whole it is better to 
carry English gold than that of any other nation, for the 
reason that it is usually more in demand. Furthermore, the 
integrity of the English mint is unquestioned, and the ac¬ 
curacy of its coinage is unimpeachable, which gives its coins 
a slight advantage. 

For use on ship-board, then, and for immediate use after 
landing, before you can get to a banker’s, it is well to take 
some English coins or bank-notes from New York or where- 
ever you sail. Your banker will sell it to you at a lower 
premium than a money changer will charge, doing it merely 
as an accommodation and not expecting the money-changer’s 
profit. The pursers of the boats will change money until 
their stock runs short, but of course they do not make quite 
so favorable rates of exchange as you can get on shore. 
The wine-lists of the various boats are priced in the currency 
of the nation under whose flag the boat sails, and there is a 
slight advantage in paying in that currency. 

Fix it in your head that the shilling and the mark, the 
common silver coins of the British and German coinage re¬ 
spectively, are worth about a quarter of a dollar; the franc 
(French), the lira (Italian), the peseta (Spanish), the gulden 
(Dutch), and the crown (Austrian) are worth about 20 cents; 
the crown in Denmark, Norway and Sweden, a trifle more 
than a quarter of a dollar; the silver florin in Holland and 
Austria about 40, and the rouble in Russia about 50 cents. 
The abbreviations for florin and franc may be easily con¬ 
founded when written, so look out for them. French silver 
goes in Belgium and Switzerland. The more common gold 
pieces are 20 shillings, a sovereign or pound, in Great Brit¬ 
ain ($4.86); 20 francs in France ($3.86); 20 marks in Ger¬ 
many ($4.76); and 20 crowns in Austria ($4.05). 

In Great Britain ordinary prices are more often given 
in shillings than in pounds. For the larger prices the term 
“guinea” is often used, though there is no coin of that de¬ 
nomination; a guinea means 21 shillings, one more than 
there are in the pound, and is equivalent to about $5.10. The 
crown, of five shillings, is worth about $1.20; the two shil¬ 
ling piece and the half crown are nearly the same size and 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


191 

are easily confused in the handling; likewise the half-sov¬ 
ereign and the sixpence may be confused in the dark and 
lead to costly errors. In America we carelessly use the term 
“penny” as the equivalent of a cent; the penny is really 
worth two cents, and the ha’penny is equal to the cent. 

Before going from one country to another, get rid of ail 
you can of the currency of the country you are leaving. The 
copper and nickej coins of one country are worthless in all 
others; you might just as well squander them as to carry 
them over the line. There are exchange offices at many 
of the frontier stations, but you can get better rates at the 
money-changers’ “bureaus” in the city from which you de¬ 
part. Foreign money changers are not always gifted with 
Americans consciences, and frequently need watching. Now 
and then, if you are skilful, you can drive a good bargain 
with one, but as a rule it is safer to deal with a banking 
house. The guide books advise travelers to beware of 
worthless bank notes, and say that especially in Italy there 
are notes afloat that have only depreciated value if any at 
all. The safest course is to give and get gold wherever you 
can. As for myself, I never got caught on anything save 
a Swiss two-franc piece that was undoubtedly genuine, but 
for some reason or other had been tabooed and disowned by 
the Swiss government. 

We are so little accustomed in America to handling gold, 
that it is not hard to make blunders in its use. The pieces 
of 20 shillings, francs, or marks are so near the size of the 
silver shilling,, franc, or mark that if you are not careful you 
may find you have paid out at night or when in haste a gold 
piece where you meant to give one of silver. You can guard 
against this by using two purses of different size, invariably 
keeping gold in one, silver in the other; or a purse with an 
inner pocket in which the gold should be kept. 

Some persons, usually of the more timid sex, carry most 
of their money in chamois-skin bags attached to a ribbon 
round the neck; people who travel in barbaric countries get 
oiled-silk bags to wear under the clothing at the waist. But 
such precautions are no more needed in Europe than in 
America. Women can get safety enough by using a pocket 


192 


GOING ABROAD? 


in the petticoat, which should be hooked, or pinned with a 
safety-pin. The cautious man will keep his letter of credit, 
passport, etc., in an inside vest pocket, fastened likewise with 
the safety-pin. 

GOING THROUGH CUSTOMS HOUSES. 

When landing in any foreign country, and whenever 
you cross the line between any two countries, you must go 
through the tedious farce of a customs house examination. 
It is tedious because it delays the journey from half an hour 
to two hours, at points utterly devoid of interest; and it is 
a farce for about all American tourists because they carry 
nothing on which duty is" collected. Liquor, tobacco, and 
food are the things more sought for than anything else, and 
the traveler is likely to carry none of them in dutiable quan¬ 
tities. 

The trunks are all taken from what we call the baggage 
car and what the English call the luggage van, placed on 
long tables, and opened when you produce the key. If you 
are good-natured and show no uneasiness, the examining 
official will make only the most cursory examination, often 
merely lifting the lid. If you claim two or three trunks, 
frequently you will be asked to open but one; don’t suggest 
which one it shall be, or the official will have another 
opened. 

Some tourists, observing how careless the examinations 
usually are, will foolishly conclude they don’t amount to 
anything and on crossing a frontier at night will not take 
the trouble to get out and open their trunks. The next 
morning they are surprised to learn that the trunks have 
been left at the frontier, and complain because their heed¬ 
lessness causes them delay, trouble, and expense. 

Frequently it is not necessary to take hand luggage 
from the car racks into the examining room; an official will 
glance into the compartment to see if anything suspicious is 
there, but the ordinary bag or shawl-strap bundle will not 
seem to him worth bothering about. So don’t move your 
luggage till somebody in authority tells you to do it. 

I never knew of anybody’s feeing an examiner in a 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


1 93 

foreign customs house. Would that the same thing might 
be said about home coming Americans! Whether or not cus¬ 
toms authorities are in earnest in their attempts to suppress 
bribery, the sad fact is that it goes on, though by no means 
to the extent commonly supposed. To dodge taxes and to 
bribe customs house officials, to deceive the assessor and 
the inspector, are venial sins in the eyes of many people 
who would not cheat their neighbors nor steal a cent. Yet 
no honest man who believes in fair play can reprove the 
serious attempt to stop the bribery of inspectors. It is our 
national hope that we live in a country where there is not 
one law for the rich and another for the poor, a hope that 
wanes wherever officials can be bought. The bribe-taker and 
the bribe-giver are equally an offence and a menace in a 
democracy. 

It is unlawful for customs officers to receive even a 
gratuity, and to offer one is a violation of law. 

All persons on their arrival in the United States are 
required to make a declaration under oath of all dutiable 
articles obtained by them abroad, upon a blank furnished by 
the Government, to an acting deputy collector who will board 
the vessel at Quarantine. When your trunks are opened on 
the pier, if it is found that you have failed to declaie dutiable 
articles, they will be liable to seizure and confiscation, you 
will be liable to criminal prosecution. Is it worth while to run 
this risk of embarassment and humiliation for the sake of 
saving a few dollars ? Isn’t it better to have a clear conscience, 
and besides feeling that you have done the square thing to 
Uncle Sam yourself, know that you have tempted none of his 
employees to violate their oaths, as well as run the risk of los¬ 
ing their positions? Pardon this bit of moralizing. It is meant 
merely to emphasize the advice I would give to would-be 
smugglers, the same advice that Punch gave to those about to 
marry,—Don’t. 

The declaration required of the passenger before the boat 
reaches the pier, requires that he shall state the exact number 
of pieces of baggage in which his effects are contained and 
give the cost or foreign value of each dutiable article. No 
invoices are required for personal effects accompanying the 



194 


GOING ABROAD? 


passenger, but it will be well for every traveler to have with 
him and ready for exhibit the original receipted bills for 
articles he may have bought abroad. When packing your 
baggage for your return trip, it would be well to prepare a list 
of articles so bought, with the prices paid for each. If these 
articles are so placed in your trunks that you can easily find 
and exhibit them for appraisement, much time and incon¬ 
venience will be saved. Uncle Sam is not petty and inquisitor¬ 
ial in this matter. When his representative, seated in the 
cabin while the boat is coming up the harbor, asks you to sign 
a statement that you have nothing dutiable, he knows perfectly 
well that the chances are a hundred to one against your being 
able to make that statement and yet tell the truth to the tiniest 
detail. It is, in short, a case where everybody recognizes that 
the spirit of the law is of more importance than the letter. 

Only a small part of the returning tourists find that they 
have anything to pay. The official circular now issued to them 
says:— 

A resident of the United States returning thereto is en¬ 
titled to bring with him, free of duty, personal effects taken 
abroad by him as baggage, provided they have not been re¬ 
modeled or improved abroad so as to increase their value, 
and in addition thereto, articles purchased or otherwise ob¬ 
tained abroad, of a total value not exceeding one hundred 
dollars. Such articles may be for the use of the person 
bringing them or for others, but not for sale. 

(To prevent the use of the foregoing provision as a cloak 
for smuggling, customs officials are instructed to inquire into 
the bona fides of the journey and the actual ownership of the 
goods. Either the presence of an unusual amount of any 
class ©f highly dutiable merchandise, or frequent and hasty 
journeys, is sufficient to raise the presumption of bad faith. 
Such cases will be subject to most careful scrutiny and prose¬ 
cution.) 

All articles obtained abroad, whether exempt from duty 
or otherwise, should be declared, and an allowance of one 
hundred dollars for articles obtained abroad will be made by 
the deputy collector upon the pier. 

It is to be noticed that this allows a tourist to buy clothing 
or other articles abroad to the extent of $100 in value, without 
duty to pay, whether they are for his own use or to be given 
away. In the case of two or more members of a family, each 
member is allowed the $100 of exemption, so that the senior 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


195 


member of a family of five, for instance, can bring in articles 
to the value of I500. If articles have been bought to a value 
beyond the exemption, the tourist may choose which of them 
shall be classed as excess, and will naturally choose those on 
which the lowest rates of duty are levied. If he does not make 
the selection, it is the duty of the inspector to reverse the thing 
and assess the articles subject to the highest rate. 

The effects taken out of the country by a resident of the 
United States may come back free at any time, provided their 
identity is established. If, therefore, the resident has any 
expectation or apprehension that his effects may not return 
on the same boat with him, he should file with the collector 
at the port of departure a sworn declaration of what they are. 

“Nonresidents” for the purposes of customs administration 
are divided into three classes: (1) Actual residents of other 
countries; (2) Persons who have been abroad for the purpose 
of study, restoration of health, or for other specific objects, 
and have had a fixed foreign abode for one year or more. 
(3) Persons who have been abroad for two years or more for 
any purpose whatever, and who have had during that time a 
fixed place of abode for one year or more. Nonresidents are 
entitled to bring with them as baggage, free of duty, all 
wearing apparel, articles of personal adornment, toilet articles, 
and similar personal effects in actual use and necessary and 
appropriate for the wear and use of such persons and their 
present comfort and convenience, not intended for other per¬ 
sons or for sale. 

Duties will be assessed at the foreign market values at 
the time of exportation, with due allowance for wear or depre¬ 
ciation. In case passengers are dissatisfied with the values 
placed upon dutiable articles, they have the privilege to de¬ 
mand a re-examination, but application therefor should be 
immediately made to the deputy collector at the pier. If for 
any reason this is impracticable, the packages containing the 
articles should be left in customs custody and application for 
re-appraisement made to the collector at the Custom-House, in 
writing, within two days after the original appraisement. No 
request for re-appraisement can be entertained after the 
articles have been removed from customs custody. 

The tariff rates on some of the articles most likely to be 


196 


GOING ABROAD? 


brought home by tourists are as follows, the figures being 
the percentage “ad valorem” (of the value) unless otherwise 
indicated : Bonnets, silk, 60 ; books, charts, maps, 25; clothing, 
ready made, cotton, 60,—linen, silk and woolen, 50; diamonds, 
uncut, free,—cut but not set, 10,—cut and set, 60; engravings, 
25 ; flowers, artificial, 50 ; fur, manufactures of, 35; furniture, 
wood, 35; glassware, plain and cut, 60; gold, manufactures 
of, not jewelry, 45; jewelry, 60; musical instruments, 45; 
paintings and marble statuary, 20; rugs, Oriental, 10 cts. a 
square foot and 40 per cent.; silk laces, wearing apparel, 60. 
Each person is entitled to bring in fifty cigars or three hundred 
cigarettes for his own use. 

Especially stringent are the rules against the importation 
of seal-skin garments made of the fur of seals killed in the 
North Pacific ocean since Dec. 29, 1897. Unless it can be 
proved to the contrary, the regulations assume that the gar¬ 
ment comes under the prohibition, so that any traveler who 
takes a seal skin garment out of the country is liable to its 
forfeiture unless a certificate describing it has been obtained 
from the collector of customs at the port of departure. 

Patience and good nature are the most useful qualities 
in an American customs house as well as in the foreign 
customs house. A smile and a joke get one through quicker 
and easier. If time presses, an express agent will save you 
delay at the moment by sending your trunk through in bond 
to any place you may designate where there is a customs 
house, but in the long run the cost of time will be much 
greater, to say nothing of the express charges. For the 
chances are when you go to get your trunk out of bond, 
you will find an inspector with plenty of time to make a 
thorough examination. Once I tried this; the inspector took 
out every single article of a large and miscellaneous collection, 
spread the whole museum on a table, and went through it 
slowly, simply to make a show of earning his salary, I take 
it, for though there were several things that might have 
been taxed, he didn’t levy a cent of duty. Perhaps the 
fact that the trunk had been sent through in bond was enough 
to make him suspicious that it contained something of value 
I feared the New York inspectors might seize. Anyway, it 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


197 


took the best part of a forenoon to accomplish what would 
have been done on the wharf in ten minutes had I been less 
impatient. 

Abroad, if you should s.end a trunk to a steamboat wharf 
in another country, it will go in bond and you are not supposed 
to open it till it gets on the boat. This may be worth while 
remembering when you pack it. 

Government officers are forbidden by law to accept 
anything but currency in payment of duties, but if requested 
will retain baggage on the pier for twenty-four hours to enable 
the owner to secure the currency. 

In Great Britain dutiable goods are tobacco, wines, liquors, 
tea, coffee, cocoa and Florida water. Each passenger may 
take in free a flask of spirits and half a pound of tobacco for 
private use. Up to three pounds of ^tobacco may be passed 
on payment of a duty of five shillings a pound, with the addi¬ 
tion in the matter ot cigars of a slight fine for contravention 
of the law forbidding the importation in chests of less than 
10,000. A broken box of cigars will go through without 
trouble. Foreign reprints of English copyrighted books and 
music are absolutely confiscated, and therefore Tauchnitz 
editions and the pirated American editions will be seized if 
seen. Dogs are not allowed to land without a license 
previously obtained from the Board of Agriculture, 4, White¬ 
hall Place, London, S. W. 

In France, tobacco, wines and liquors are subject to 
duty. Matches are strictly prohibited and liable to confisca¬ 
tion. Household goods and wearing apparel are admitted 
free, with but few if any questions asked. The penalty for 
false declarations is heavy. The duty on ordinary tobacco 
is $3 a kilogramme (2 1-5 lbs); on Turkish tobacco, $5; on 
cigars and cigarettes, $ 7 . 20 . The traveler is allowed to take 
in free not more than 20 cigars or half a pound of tobacco, 
and is liable to a fine of five times the duty if they are not 
declared. I suspect, however, that very few broken boxes 
of cigars pay any duty. 

Italy is harder yet on the smoker, allowing free entry to 
only 1 1-3 oz. of tobacco. Travelers found in possession of 
more than this anywhere in Italy are liable to a fine of about 



GOING ABROAD? 


198 

$14 if they cannot prove that the duty has been paid. This, 
however, is more terrifying than dangerous; one might run 
greater risk in venturing to smoke an Italian cigar. 

In Germany, Switzerland and* Belgium, the only articles 
subject to duty which travelers would be likely to carry, are 
tobacco and spirits, and on these the duty is trifling. In the 
Netherlands, tobacco, spirits and all articles usually carried 
by travelers are admitted free. 

FOREIGN PRICES. 

Everybody goes abroad for the first time 'with the ex¬ 
pectation that everything can be bought there to better ad¬ 
vantage than at home. This is not the fact. On the con¬ 
trary, Europe sells few things more cheaply, taking quality 
into account as well as price. 

The most common misconception is in the matter of 
English clothes for men. Plenty of tailors in London offer 
to make a business suit for twelve or fifteen dollars; $25 
would be a price far above the average. Compared with the 
New York range of prices, from $25 to $40, London seems 
to be giving away clothes. But even though the cloth may 
equal or surpass that offered in New York of corresponding 
grade, the workmanship is poor and the fit is abominable, 
except that given by a few of the high-priced West End 
shops. A friend tells me that once he traveled for two weeks 
on the Continent in a suit that bad been quickly made in 
London, which disclosed such a wealth 'of white linen be¬ 
tween trousers and vest that he had to keep the lowest button 
of the coat buttoned all the time. Then he gave the suit 
away to a hotel portier. 

I asked a London tailor why he didn’t make better 
clothes. “Because,” he answered, “you people have taken all 
our best workmen.” 

My friend bought a meerschaum pipe in Munich and 
thought he had a bargain. When he got back to Boston a 
pipe merchant offered to duplicate it for fifty cents less; he 
maintained that the best meerschaum pipe makers have come 
across to America. 

Furthermore, our leading merchants vie with each other 
in offering imported goods, and competition has reduced to 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


199 


a minimum their profits on all standard lines. Indeed, no 
small part of the income of ocean steamers comes from 
the buyers who are sent across the water to get fabrics and 
other merchandise. Says one of them: “We go direct to the 
factories and buy their goods and pay duty on the wholesale 
price, and then by selling at a close margin of profit can 
come very near duplicating the prices demanded by the 
shopkeepers along the fashionable thoroughfares of Europe.” 

It would be almost safe to make the general assertion 
that Europe excels us now only in products requiring an 
artistic environment, peculiar properties of soil or climate, 
or the labor of work people so poor that they cannot emi¬ 
grate. Good paintings would naturally be cheaper where 
museums abound and art students congregate, than in 
American cities. With the climatic conditions of Northern 
Italy particularly adapted to the mulberry and the silk-worm, 
it is not surprising to find silks cheaper in Milan than in 
Chicago. The hand-made laces of Belgium and Venice can¬ 
not be approached in countries where girls will not work for 
a pittance. 

In nearly everything requiring the use of machinery, 
American prices are the better for the buyer. In boots and 
shoes, for instance, Massachusetts can undersell the world. 
In watches we can match any European products except 
perhaps those of Geneva, where generations of hand work¬ 
men have accumulated a fund of skilled knowledge that 
enables the place to sell to foreigners on the strength of 
superiority in some details, though not in all,—possibly in 
none of those concerning the watch that would be bought 
by the mass of mankind. 

WHERE TO BUY SPECIALTIES TO ADVANTAGE. 

It is chiefly by reason of specialties that European shop¬ 
ping can rightfully attract American buyers, not alone be¬ 
cause special application to any one industry by a large part 
of the people of a locality is sure to make its price cheap, 
but also because an excess of production results in greater 
latitude for selection. Geneva may again illustrate, for be¬ 
sides watches, it makes a specialty of music boxes, and no- 


200 


GOING ABROAD? 


where else can you find such a variety at such cheap prices. 
Of other specialties the tourist will do well to buy— 

Tortoise shell, coral and lava, in Naples. 

Wood carving, in Switzerland, the Black Forest, Sor¬ 
rento, Norway and Sweden. 

Olive wood articles at the Italian Lakes. 

Silver and gold filagree work, in Genoa. 

Cameos, mosaics, and many other kinds of ornaments, in 
Florence, Venice, and Rome,—Florence being the cheapest. 

Pearls and turquoises, in Rome and Florence. 

The cheaper stones,—amethysts, topaz, cairngorns, etc., 
—in Switzerland and Scotland. 

Toilet articles,—soaps, perfumes, sponges, etc.,—in the 
German cities, and in Paris. 

Venetian glass, of course, in Venice. 

Artistic plaster, in Paris. 

Hammered brass, in Northern Africa. 

Porcelain pictures, in Lucerne and Dresden. 

Letter paper, in London. 

Umbrellas, in Milan or Switzerland. 

Artificial flowers, in Paris. 

Furs, in Germany or Scandinavia. 

Woolen underwear, in London and Germany. 

Silk underwear, in Sorrento, Milan and France. 

Gloves, in Naples, Genoa, Milan, Paris and London. 

Linen handkerchiefs, etc., in Belfast. 

Embroidery, in Rennes and other Breton towns. 

Laces, in Venice, Seville and Belgium, the prices for 
real Valenciennes being somewhat lower in Bruges and 
Ghent than in Antwerp and Brussels. 

Silks, in Lyons and in Genoa, Milan and other places in 
Northern Italy. Visitors often buy in the Italian Lake towns 
plaid silk shawls to take home for waists; a shawl large 
enough to furnish material for a blouse may generally be 
bought for less than an equal amount of silk sold by the 
yard. 

Cutlery, old silverware, and Sheffield plate, in London. 

Engravings and all reproductions, in Berlin. 

It will be noticed that in the foregoing list the names 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


201 


of Italian cities predominate. It is the general rule abroad 
that as you go South, prices drop. The easier it is to live, 
the lower the price the workman will take. And the easier 
it is to live, the more children and so the more competition 
for work. That is why Italy abounds in bargains. Tariffs 
and taxes appear to affect the matter very little. Neither 
free trader nor protectionist can justifiably be made more 
partisan by a journey through Europe. Rather he is likely 
to return with the impression that the tariff is a less im* 
portant political issue than he had supposed. When you can 
buy things cheaper in high-tariff and tax-ridden Italy than 
in no-tariff England, and when Holland without any industry 
to protect is the dearest country of all, what can you argue? 

Explain, too, if you can, why Paris should be one of 
the costliest places in the world. It would be equally hard 
to explain why all America thinks Paris the cheapest place 
in the world, and why it is the mecca of every fair shopper. 
To be sure, its dressmakers set the fashion for all woman¬ 
kind, though its women are not the best dressed, that honor 
belonging to the Americans, who with their own good taste 
modify Parisian ideas. Outside the costuming establish¬ 
ments, as a shopping city it does not begin to compare with 
New York. It hasn’t so many elegant shops, the shop win¬ 
dows are not so attractive, the system of doing business is 
not so convenient, and the prices are not so reasonable. In 
neither of its two great department stores, the Bon Marche 
and the Louvre, did I notice any department excelling in 
variety or quality of stock similar departments in the big 
stores of Boston. Americans who dwell in Paris will unani¬ 
mously advise their countrymen, and particularly their 
countrywomen, to buy necessary things anywhere else rather 
than there. 

Particularly in the matter of all cotton goods is it waste¬ 
ful for the traveler to postpone expenditure till the ocean 
has been crossed. We grow the cotton, we have the best 
mills, and we undersell the world. In all footwear, too, we 
are in the lead, foreign boots and shoes of equal quality being 
higher in price, inferior in style, and less comfortable in fit. 

In the art of window dressing our merchants have gone 


202 


GOING ABROAD? 


far ahead of those in Paris, London, and all other foreign 
cities. This is chiefly due to a difference in shopping 
methods. In London, for example, it is common for buyers 
to go from window to window till they see what they want, 
and so the merchant crowds into his window as many things 
as he can, regardless of the general effect. 

The department stores to be found in London, Paris 
and a few other cities have fixed prices, but save in Germany 
they are almost the only foreign stores that do. The farther 
South you go, the more you must beat down, and by the time 
you reach Oriental countries, a quarter of the price de¬ 
manded is what should be given; be patient and firm, and 
you will get the article at that figure. In the smaller Italian 
stores the proprietor can be forced down from a quarter to 
a third; if you give him what he asks, 'he is ashamed of him¬ 
self for not having asked more. In the larger stores, a dis¬ 
count of ten or fifteen per cent, is not hard to get. Swiss 
prices fluctuate according to the persistence of the buyer. 
Bargaining is half the fun of buying laces in Brussels. 

Do not proclaim that you are an American. On this 
point deceive the shop-keeper if your knowledge of the lan¬ 
guage will let you. Foolish Americans have spread abroad 
the notion that all Americans are fabulously rich, and prices 
jump up the moment a customer’s American origin is be¬ 
trayed. A friend among the natives of the city where you 
may be can save you considerable amounts by buying for 
you what you have decided to purchase. 

I had gathered the impression while touring in Germany 
that it was an exception to the Continental rule oif a flexible 
price-list, and that the same charges prevailed for native and 
foreigner, but I am informed that in all German cities where 
Americans reside in any number, such as Berlin and Dresden, 
they are systematically overcharged from 30 to 60 per cent, 
in everything. Moreover, it is asserted that German courts 
do not deal out even-handed justice in matters where trades¬ 
people are at issue with foreigners. As for that, litigation is 
not cheerful for the American anywhere on the Continent. 
For instance, the story goes that in Venice an American 
visited a dealer in antique furniture and saw a very beautiful 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 203 

set of carved furniture. The price was 12,000 lire. He 
ordered a duplicate of the set which was on exhibition, and 
as a guaranty of his responsibility paid the dealer 2,000 lire. 
The dealer pocketed the money and never filled the order. 
The American consul attempted to compel him to manufac¬ 
ture the goods and forward them, but he insolently refused 
to do so and he also refused to return the money. The 
courts showed no disposition to help the American and the 
money was lost. 

On the other hand, many a Continental shop-keeper will 
tell you that no American ever cheated him. As a conse¬ 
quence it is easy for an American to get trusted. But the 
credit practice is as foolish abroad as it is at home; every¬ 
where a cash bargain is the better for the buyer. In certain 
German towns they are quick to imprison foreigners if it is 
suspected that they intend leaving the country before settling 
their accounts. 

The confidence of the European shop-keeper astonishes 
the American. Tradespeople never refuse to send goods to 
a hotel for inspection, and frequently invite the opportunity. 
The milliners of London and Paris will gladly deliver a 
dozen boxes of hats that one may keep >a day before selecting, 
and apparently have not the least fear that a few hours’ wear 
will be borrowed. Likewise they will deliver shoes, under¬ 
wear, anything else; if you don’t like it, return it. The Bon 
Marche in Paris won some of its reputation by the rule that 
uninjured goods may be returned at any time in exchange 
for the original price, and instances are told of returns made 
a year after the purchase. Though so much leniency is not 
universal, if is the custom abroad to refund the money for 
goods returned. 

Seldom is any deposit asked for goods that are ordered 
for future delivery. In Rennes we were in bicycle costume, 
with no luggage in sight except what was on our wheels, 
and yet the embroidery merchant seemed pleased to take an 
order without deposit for some articles to overtake us by 
mail, that we were not to accept if they did not suit our 
fancy, though the making of them meant several days of 
labor. 


GOING ABROAD? 


304 

I hear a good deal of grumbling about purchases made 
abroad and shipped direct to an American address, not be¬ 
cause of the dealer’s bad faith, but because of the charges 
for broker’s commission, warehouse storage, cartage, steam¬ 
ship transportation, tariff, freight, and so on, which make it 
extravagant to buy abroad in this manner anything that can 
be duplicated at home, no matter how alluring may be the 
foreign prices. The dealer’s assurance that the article will be 
safely delivered in Chicago, New Orleans or where you 
please, is all right, and perhaps he believes what 'he says 
when he declares that the cost will be trifling, but that is not 
the fact. 

Never take a guide or professional interpreter when you 
go shopping on 'the Continent; he will always get a commis¬ 
sion on what you buy, and it will come out of you. All the 
big stores have somebody who speaks English. In the little 
shops, if you haven’t mastered the oral use of the numerals 
of the country (which should be your first duty on entering 
it), a pencil and paper will bring into play the Arabic numer¬ 
als, common to all civilized lands. 

Collectors of curios and antiques must everywhere 
abroad be on their guard against deception. The Germans 
have large and prosperous factories for making antique 
lamps, corroded bronzes, rusty swords, battered armor, an¬ 
cient potteries, all sorts of relics, and these are shipped to 
the appropriate place for their sale. It is said that a German 
factory is hard pressed to supply the bullets that are dug up 
on the battlefield of Waterloo. The Turkish fez is made in 
Germany. 

Beware the Saturday half-holiday in England. It is 
universal the year round, as much observed as Sunday, so 
don’t count on doing any shopping then. No business is 
done on the four Bank Holidays,—Easter Monday, Whit 
Monday, the first Monday in August, and December 26. 

Most important of all shopping advice to the tourist is 
this: Buy what you -want when you see it. Don’t indulge 
the American tendency to wait a while in the hope of finding 
the same thing at a better price. Nine times out of ten you 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


205 


will not come across it again. So wthen a thing strikes your 
fancy and the price is not exorbitant, take it then and there. 

SOUVENIRS AND PHOTOGRAPHY. 

To spend money on souvenirs lacking utility may be 
folly, but it is charming folly. Given to friends, presents 
from abroad that may not have cost a franc are prized as if 
they were jewels, partly because of the glamour that sur¬ 
rounds everything European, partly because they show that 
distance did not drown friendship. Kept by yourself, me¬ 
mentoes of travel refresh its memories; they are needed 
even though it may seem to the traveler when entranced by 
foreign scenes that he can never forget them. Photographs 
best serve this purpose, and he does well who is lavish in 
their purchase. 

Many travelers on returning regret that they bought 
photographs of different sizes, for it is hard to preserve 
them attractively in an album or any other form. As many 
disirable views cannot be found in any other but the com¬ 
mon 8x ro size, it is preferable to get them all of those 
dimensions. Of course they should be bought unmounted, 
the cards being awkward and bulky to pack. Those that 
cost half a franc (ten cents) in Italy will cost a franc in 
Paris and a shilling in London. In Switzerland they are 
cheaper than in Paris, and dearer than in Italy, but better 
than either Paris or Italy. Indeed, to my mind, the Swiss 
photographs are the best ordinarily exposed for sale in 
Europe. By going to the maker you can get the widest 
scope for selection, and fresher pictures than those to be 
found on the shoo counters, but that is not important 
enough to warrant inconvenience. 

Since the hand camera using films has been perfected, 
it is worth while taking your own views, but not of places 
of which von can buy photographs. It is foolish for the 
amateur to start out with the idea of photographing all the 
fine buildings and beautiful landscapes he may see; in nine 
cases out of ten his pictures will cosit more and be poorer 
than those he might buy. 

At home it is well enough to experiment and practice; 
abroad time is too precious for that. So it is more impor- 


206 


GOING ABROAD? 


taut to snap the shutter at views with personal interest than 
at those with artistic value; the outlook from your hotel 
window, a country railway station, the flower market, a 
peasant costume, the diligence in which you crossed an Al¬ 
pine pass, glimpses from a railway car, the Strand or the 
Avenue de 1 ’Opera at mid-day, a Neapolitan cab-driver, your 
hotel at Venice,—such are the subjects that will always 
pleasantly refresh your own memory and make your descrip¬ 
tions more enjoyable to the friends at home. These friends 
will be bored if you talk about the Louvre, the Falls of the 
Rhine, the Pantheon, St. Mark’s,—what they want to hear 
about is the life abroad, and an impertinent beggar arouses 
their interest more than the Venus de Medici. So if you 
take pictures for any but a purely selfish purpose, always 
have life in them, and the more odd and grotesque that life, 
the better. For that matter every photograph should have a 
living being in it,—man, woman, child, or animal,—both for 
the sake of animation and to give the eye a standard of 
measurement. Don’t be afraid of getting too near your sub¬ 
ject. 

It is not worth while to carry abroad a camera using 
plates; the film camera is bulky enough, goodness knows, 
and many a time you will wash it at the bottom of the sea, 
yet on the whole you will be glad of having taken it. The 
4x5 size best combines good work and portability, but 
after trying it on one tour and a “folding pocket” on an¬ 
other, I incline toward the smaller one on the score of con¬ 
venience, particularly if it is to be carried on a bicycle. Its 
pictures do not average so well in excellence, but they serve 
the purpose, that is, they suffice to recall the scenes and to 
help entertainment. Larger sizes than the 4x5 are cumber¬ 
some and fatiguing. Films can be secured in any large city 
of Europe, but a connoisseur advised me to get them all here 
unless a trip of many months was contemplated, as he said 
that though the foreign films are made from the same for¬ 
mula, somehow they do not produce so good results. As a 
precaution, however, it will be wise before starting to get 
from the American manufacturers lists of their foreign 
agencies. If the films are taken from here, have them deliv- 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


207 


ered in tin canisters, to protect them from the dampness of 
the sea voyage. If the larger rolls are taken, better expose 
two or three from each roll before starting, and develop them, 
to make sure that they are perfect. The man who has never 
used a hand camera does a very foolish thing if he starts off 
on a long journey without any preliminary practice. It is all 
very well to advertise, “You push the button and we do the 
rest,’* but pushing the button isn’t all of it by any means. * 
The combinations of speed of shutter and sizes of stops re¬ 
quire a clear understanding and some experience before the 
best results are attained. The art is not difficult; it is an easy 
thing to use a hand camera after you know how; but even 
the simplest processes will confuse a novice. And it is a pity 
to carry a camera over all Europe, go to the bother of hunt¬ 
ing for good subjects and come back to find that through 
ignorance of some apparently trivial thing, you have spoiled 
half your films. When intelligent people beginning to use 
a camera, in spite of the plainest directions, will point it 
toward the source of light, or press the button without re¬ 
moving the dust slide or cap, it seems clear that a little teach¬ 
ing by experience is essential. 

It is often thought that in buying a camera the securing 
of a good lens is the all-important thing, and that the mech¬ 
anism of the shutter is a minor detail. I didn’t think so 
when my shutter refused to work in the Alhambra, a place 
of all places where a camera in good condition seemed most 
desirable. It turned out that the wooden base of the shuttei 
mechanism had been swollen during the ocean voyage so 
that something was thrown out of gear, and a camera that 
had done long and excellent work in America was for a 
while not worth a cent. Nobody could be found with 
knowledge enoug'h of hand cameras to repair this one, and 
it was weeks before my own struggle with the thing in spare 
moments got that shutter into condition again. Moral: 
Have your camera thoroughly examined by an expert in 

such matters before you start. 

Wherever there is a film agency, you can get your films 
developed, but the foreign work in this line is not equal to 
the American, and it is better to wait till you get back. et, 


GOING ABROAD? 


208 

it may be wise to have one or two films developed now and 
then, to see that the shutter is working right and that the 
film has not beeen damaged. 

POST, EXPRESS AND TELEGRAPH. 

All European countries, as well as the United States and 
Canada, are now in the Postal Union, and the rates from any 
one country to any other are virtually the same, correspond¬ 
ing in the coinage of the country in question to the following 
on mail matter sent from the United States:— 


Letters, each half ounce. 5 cts. 

Postal cards. 2 cts. 

Newspapers, books, and other printed matter, each 

two ounces. 1 ct. 

Commercial papers: 

Packets not in excess of ten ounces, for each two 
ounces or fraction thereof. 5 cts. 

Packets iu excess of ten ounces, for each two 
ounces or fraction thereof. 1 ct. 

Samples of merchandise: 

Packets not in excess of four ounces. 2 cts. 

Packets in excess of four ounces, for each two 
ounces or fraction thereof.10 cts. 

Registration fee on letters or other articles.10 cts. 


In the States we have for some time been accustomed 
to an ounce as the weight limit on the minimum letter rate, 
and do not at first appreciate how in foreign correspondence 
the half ounces count up, at five cents apiece. But a lesson 
or two will soon teach the wanderer the wisdom of falling 
into the general habit abroad, of using thin paper and light 
envelopes for the letters sent home. But those who would 
conform to the usage of society would hardly employ that 
sort of paper in answering invitations or in any formal cor¬ 
respondence with persons in the country where the letter 
was written. 

Postal cards are a great convenience to those who feel 
under obligations to keep their relatives constantly informed 
as to their whereabouts and welfare. They are easily carried, 
easily handled, and When closely written can convey a sur¬ 
prising amount of information. Be careful, though, that you 










SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


209 


buy neither cards nor stamps beyond the quantity you are 
likely to use in the country where you may be, for they are 
useless in any other country. The Postal Union will not 
be perfect till its cards and stamps can be used anywhere 
within its limits. 

If postage is not fully prepaid on matter going from one 
place in the United States to another in the same country, 
only the balance due is collected of the receiver. But on 
matter going from one country to another, twice the balance 
due is collected. That is, if your home correspondent puts 
on a 2-cent stamp instead of a 5-cent stamp, you must pay 
6 cents to get the letter. This seldom means much on let¬ 
ters, but on merchandise and printed matter it may amount 
to a good deal for the youth studying abroad -on a very 
small allowance. Stories are told, at the same time laugh¬ 
able and pathetic, of heavy excess postage payments on 
Christmas cards and gifts, amounting to much more than 
the original cost of the articles. Of course thoughtful 
people will always prepay all mail matter, and will be equally 
careful to enclose a stamp when asking a reply from any 
stranger. 

When you send home books, periodicals, newspapers, 
or manuscript not personal in nature (which go at printed 
matter rate), be sure that the parcel is open at both ends, 
and tied with a string, so that it can be examined if <the cus¬ 
toms officials so wish. Merchandise must also be packed 
so that it can be examined. In England, at any rate, and I 
presume in all other countries, every parcel going out of the 
country must have a customs declaration respecting the con¬ 
tents; this must be on a form obtainable at any Post Office; 
the duties cannot be prepaid, but are collected on delivery. 
Articles of trivial value will probably run the gauntlet with¬ 
out interference. No cautious shipper ever sends a package 
by mail or in any other manner without having his own ad¬ 
dress on it, that he may stand some chance of recovering the 
goods in case the person addressed cannot be found. In the 
United Kingdom compensation for loss or damage to an 
amount not exceeding Sio will be given without payment of 
any special! fee, if a certificate of posting has been obtained. 


210 


GOING ABROAD? 


The safest way to have one’s mail come is in care of a 
banker; next in point of safety are pensions; next, hotels. 
“Poste restante” is understood everywhere as tfhe equivalent 
of our “General Delivery.” For letters it is commonly sate, 
though it may be bothersome if the postmaster chooses to 
demand identification. This rarely happens, but when it does, 
the passport comes in handy. To have parcels or newspapers 
addressed to the Poste Restante is not safe. For several 
weeks of a bicycle tour in France I failed to receive a single 
newspaper so addressed, though many were sent to me; and 
though the officials repeatedly averred that there was no in¬ 
tention to abuse the newspaper mail, my belief is that my 
papers were all thrown away in the office of receipt. As 
soon as I returned to the use of bankers’ addresses, the pa¬ 
pers began reaching me all right. Bankers are exceedingly 
obliging in these matters; they will send letters or papers 
after one from place to place over all the Continent till they 
catch up with the traveler. The tourist agencies are not so 
certain in this regard, at any rate in the summer time, for 
though doubtless their intentions are of the best, they are 
then so over-worked that what probably seems the least im¬ 
portant thing, the mail, gets slighted. By the way, when 
calling*for mail at the Poste Restante, you would better 
write your name and hand it in through the wicket. Just 
remember how hard you find it to understand a foreign name 
when spoken to yourself. 

Letter writing is as great a nuisance to the tourist as 
letter receiving is a delight. If one could only convince his 
home friends that it is so much better for them to give than 
to receive, that they ought to permit the correspondence to 
be wdiolly one-sided, many an hour would next be begrudged 
from seeing, studying, or resting. The novice in travel is 
profuse in promises to write, and seldom keeps them. Let 
the stay-at-home have charity. 

The PostofiP.ce Department calculates on 8 days for the 
transmission of mail from New York to London, Paris or 
Bremen; io days to Glasgow; and as follows to other Eu¬ 
ropean cities by way of London: q days to Amsterdam, Ant¬ 
werp. Berlin, Hamburg, Madrid, Rome, Rotterdam; io days 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


211 


to St. Petersburg, Stockholm, Vienna; n days to Constanti¬ 
nople; 12 days to Athens; 13 days to Alexandria. 

Letters or telegrams sent to passengers on the Atlantic 
liners should be addressed in care of the Company, and bear 
the name of steamer and date of sailing. Otherwise they will 
be held at the office until claimed unless by happy chance the 
name is recognized as that of a passenger, which will be sel¬ 
dom. Letters intended to reach passengers by mail steamers 
touching at Queenstown on the way to America, should be 
addressed “in care of the commander” of the boat in ques¬ 
tion. and should in Great Britain be posted as registered let¬ 
ters not later than the morning of the day the boat is to 
leave Liverpool. 

Europe has no express system corresponding precisely 
with ours; that is to say, it has no large express companies 
that monopolize the quick transportation of parcels unac¬ 
companied by the own'er. Part of the work is done by the 
various governments through a development of the parcels 
post system that the L T nited States has not yet adopted; part 
of it is done by the railroad companies themselves; a small 
part of it is done by forwarding agents, who stand more in the 
position of shippers and receivers than in that of transporters. 

Our uniform merchandise mail rate of a cent an ounce 
with a 4-pound limit contrasts markedly with the English 
rates, ranging from 6 cents for a pound or less to 24 cents 
for 11 pounds, the limit, and still more with the Swiss rates, 
by which to send a 44-pound package costs only 30 cents, 
and it is cheaper to send almost anything portable by post 
than in any other way. To mail a traveling bag in Switzer¬ 
land is common. 

The railways of Great Britain have two rate-scales for 
parcels and merchandise, one applying if they are forwarded 
by passenger train, the other if by goods train, or what we 
call freight train. Likewise there is a double classification on 
the Continent, for forwarding by “grande vitesse,”—big 
quickness,--as it is called in France; or by “petite vitesse,” 
—little quickness. The “big quickness” has little quickness 
enough, goodness knows. A slangy American would say 
that one way was slow, and the other dead slow. 


GOING ABROAD? 


212 


The British prices for forwarding by passenger train 
range from 8 cents for 2 lbs. any distance, to 60 cents for 24 
lbs. going 200 miles. This is lower than our express rates 
on small packages, and higher on tihe large packages. Con¬ 
tinental roads figure it in the same way, taking both weight 
and distance into account, with rates of the same general 
range. Freight rates, “petite vitesse,” are of course much 
lower, but it is not safe to use them if delivery more than a 
month later would be embarrassing. Though the goods may 
go through in two or three days, it is more likely to take as 
many weeks, and instanoes of as many months are not un¬ 
known. 

As the railroads cater for a parcels business, they main¬ 
tain many receiving offices. The London & Northwestern, 
for example, has nearly 40 scattered through London, 60 in 
Birmingham. As with our express system, parcels are called 
for on notification at any of these offices, and delivered, with¬ 
out extra charge. Paris, too, is dotted with receiving offices 
of the railroads, and in all the cities one can find a bureau in 
the business centre where he can arrange about forwarding 
things without having to go to the station, which is usually 
on the edge of the town. 

There are a few large concerns doing the business of 
forwarding agents. Their chief service to the tourist consists 
in the combination of storing with forwarding, and in their 
care of customs matters where things are sent across a boun¬ 
dary. For storing a trunk in London one of these concerns 
charged me a shilling a month. For attending to transporta¬ 
tion their fee in addition to the transporting charge is equally 
reasonable. But implicit faith is no more to be put in them 
than in one of our express companies. For instance, two 
young women who had ordered a trunk forwarded to Liver¬ 
pool and held till the time they were to sail, sent directions 
early enough by mail as to the boat on which it was to be 
put. They reached Liverpool on Saturday afternoon,—the 
half-holiday time,—to find no trunk on the steamer and the 
place of the forwarding agent closed. Messengers hunted 
for him in vain and the young women perforce returned to 
the United States without any trunk. We sympathized with 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


213 


them and fellow passengers lent them things, but they were 
not happy, and no wonder. Such mischances are rare, but 
they do happen now and then to people who put a blind 
faith in Providence and run for luck. 

When a forwarding agent is asked to send a trunk or 
any locked article across a frontier, be sure to give him the 
key that the customs authorities may examine the contents. 
He is responsible for seeing that nothing is purloined in the 
course of this process. The key is not needed when you 
forward anything by a railway company “in bond,” such as 
a trunk from Paris, addressed in care of the steamer at the 
foreign port from which you are to sail. By the way, pur¬ 
chases or clothing found to be superfluous can be forwarded 
to the steamship office at your sailing port and will there be 
held till you call for them. 

Of course one should be careful that his trunk or parcel 
is properly labelled or tagged, with label or tag likely to stay 
in place. If charges are prepaid, it is wise to see that the 
label is properly stamped to this effect, or to notify the con¬ 
signee. Carelessness in this regard cost me double on a bag 
sent from London to a Liverpool hotel. It is just as well 
not to prepay. Luggage thus sent to a hotel will be paid for 
by the landlord, who will take the chances of your turning 
up to reimburse him. 

One need be less on his guard against double-charging 
and imposition in Norway and Sweden than anywhere else. 
Dishonesty there is the rare exception. A vehicle broke 
down between post stations and there was nothing to do but 
pile the luggage beside the road and walk on to the next 
station. “But this baggage,” expostulated the American, 
“will it be safe?” 

Scanning the heavens, the Norwegian driver replied: “I 
don’t think it will rain.” 

He could imagine no other danger. 

The best way to transmit money from one country to 
another in any amount up to $100 is by international money 
order; it is safe to reckon on a cost of a cent for each dollar 
transmitted, with minimum cost of 10 cents. Money may be 


214 


GOING ABROAD? 


sent home in this way, or the remitter can send express 
orders. To cable money is rather costly. 

In the matter of the telegraph, as well as in that of the 
parcel post, the European is far ahead of us, at least in the 
matter of cost, though the publicists who contend for the 
private ownership of the telegraph and telephone maintain 
that our plan secures the more efficient service. But whether 
or not the foreigner gets his telegrams transmitted as quickly 
and accurately, certainly the work is done for him at a price 
which makes the use of the wire far more common than 
with us. Telegrams may be sent from any one place in the 
United Kingdom to any other therein at the rate of 12 cents 
for the first 12 words, and a cent for each additional word; 
to France, Germany, Holland or Belgium for 4 cents a 
word; to Switzerland, Italy or Austria for 6 cents a word; to 
Spain for 8 cents a word. 

In Great Britain the address of the receiver is charged 
for, but not that of the sender when written on the back of 
the telegraph form. The charge includes delivery within the 
town postal limits, or within one mile of a head office; be¬ 
yond that limit the charge is 12 cents a mile for the first three 
miles; if three or more miles, at the rate of 24 cents a mile 
from the office door. In France telegrams cost a cent a 
word with a minimum charge of 10 cents, and the rate is not 
much higher in any of the European countries commonly 
visited. 

All the European cities have telephone systems, and 
there is a long-distance telephone from London to .Paris, but 
how much farther the system may by this time have been 
extended, I am not informed. 

Cable rates between New York City and the principal 
countries of Europe are: Belgium, France, Germany} Great 
Britain, Holland, 25 cents a word; Switzerland, 30 cents; 
Italy and Sicily, 32; Austria and Hungary, 34; Dehmark and 
Norway, 35; Malta, Servia and Roumania, 36; Turkey, 37; 
Greece, 38; Sweden and Portugal, 39; Spain, 40; Gibraltar 
and Russia, 4 3 - To these must be added the American tele¬ 
graph tolls from the seaboard, and the foreign tolls from the 
chief city. The address and signature are included in the 


SOMEWHAT FINANCIAL. 


2*5 

chargeable matter, and the length of words is limited to fif¬ 
teen letters; when a word is composed of more than that, 
every additional fifteen letters or fractions thereof will be 
counted as a word. To save expense in the matter of address, 
it is the custom to file at your home office any combination 
of letters chosen arbitrarily, with which your street address 
or that of your business house, relative, or friend is regis 
tered. For example, before leaving home go to the telegraph 
office and direct that any message coming for “Smilax, Bos¬ 
ton,” or New York, or wherever it may be, shall be delivered 
to such and-such an address. Further economy is secured 
by the use of a cable code, wherein words are indexed to 
signify whole sentences, or at least a considerable part of 
sentences. If you have one copy and your correspondent its 
mate, long messages can thus be transmitted by the use of 
a very few words. The ground is admirably covered by The 
Adams Cable Codex, which is published at 84 State St., 
Boston, at 50 cents, and will be forwarded on receipt of price; 
or it may be ordered of the publishers of this volume. 

In this Codex is a word signifying a request to the pub¬ 
lishers, to translate the other words of the message and for¬ 
ward them to whatever address may be desirable. So if one 
desires to communicate with anybody not having a Codex, 
he has but to cable the significant word to the cable address 
of the Codex, with the other code words of his message. The 
cost of the book is saved several times over on the first 
message you may send informing anxious friends of your safe 
arrival, and though you may not need to use it again, yet if 
the occasion arises, as from sickness at home, business neces¬ 
sities or shortage of funds, the saving will be very considerable. 


CHAPTER IX. 

PERSONALITIES. 

Passports are no longer necessary on the ordinary routes 
of European travel, though indispensable in Russia and the 
Turkish dominions, including Egypt and Palestine. They 
are almost never of use in England, but are occasionally de¬ 
sirable on the Continent, and when wanted at all, are wanted 
very much. An American may wander through Europe for 
a year without ever having occasion to prove his identity, 
but if the occasion does arise, it is urgent. The trouble and 
cost of getting a passport are slight, and it is just as well to 
have one. The passport agent’s or banker’s fee can be 
easily saved by getting a blank application from Washington 
for nothing; it will be forwarded if you send request to the 
Passport Division, State Department; or if you are in a large 
city, you can get one at a law stationer’s for a few cents. 
Fill it out, swear to it before a notary or justice of the peace 
(who may charge you 50 cents if you are a stranger), and 
then forward it with the fee of ? dollar to the State Depart¬ 
ment, which in due time will send you the passport. Better 
attend to it two or three weeks before sailing, but if you 
should overlook the matter till late, have it sent to you'^ad 
the port of departure in care of the steamer on which you 
are to sail. (By the way, any letters thus addressed are 
almost sure to reach you, and it is a pleasure to hear from 
home the last thing before the steamer sails.) 

If you find yourself abroad without a passport and get 
into trouble by reason of its lack, apply at once for help to 
the nearest American consul. If you want to apply for a 
passport while abroad, do it through the chief diplomatic 
representative of the United States in the country where 
you may be; in his absence, through the consul-general or 
consul. If a passport is lost, a duplicate can be secured 
from the State Department without filling out a new blank. 

216 


PERSONALITIES. 


217 

An English consul in Germany says that anyone who 
intends making a long stay there, especially in Prussia, will 
find it absolutely necessary to have a passport, as, according 
to the police regulations, house-owners, lodging-house 
keepers, etc., are bound to report within three days the ar¬ 
rival of any stranger, when official proofs of identity are 
invariably demanded. 

Passports are supposed to be required in Austria- 
Hungary, but are not demanded at the frontier, and are sel¬ 
dom called for anywhere. 

If the traveler expects to go to Russia, he should send 
or take his passport to the Russian Consul-General, 
Alexander Obarovsky, 22 State street, New York, that his 
“visa” may be affixed; the fee is $1.20. If the passport is 
sent, the sender should state the place of birth and also the 
form of religion professed. 

The excursionist planning a tour through Central Eu¬ 
rope alone is likely to need his passport only in case regis¬ 
tered letters or money orders are sent to him. 

Passports are good for two years, but can then be 
renewed on application to the State Department at Wash¬ 
ington. 


BAGGAGE. 

X do not know whether the Romans called their baggage 
impedimenta because it impeded, but I do know that in all 
Roget’s Thesaurus no truer synonym is to be found. Since 
traveling began, old travelers have advised new travelers to 
take little baggage, yet every novice takes too much. 
Though any but hand luggage makes additional expense 
that is not inconsiderable, the objection is not chiefly on 
the score of economy, for anybody who can afford to travel, 
can usually afford to pay for comfort; it is on the score 
of convenience. Everything that is taken must be handled 
again an'd again and again. To pack and unpack a trunk 
takes valuable time; it is no small matter to arrange prop¬ 
erly a traveling bag crowded with small articles. Luggage 
reveals more than anything else what the poet or somebody 
else has called the “natural cussedness of inanimate ob- 


218 


GOING ABROAD? 


jects.” The traditional needle in the hay-stack is a crowbar 
compared with a thimble in a trunk. 

Don’t take a trunk if it can be avoided. It is certainly 
needless for the ordinary European excursion of anything 
less than three months. Should you buy bulky articles 
abroad, get the trunk there, postponing its purchase as long 
as possible. 

English tourists on the Continent rarely take trunks, 
but the number of bags and bundles they manipulate is in¬ 
credible,—this because hand luggage pays no railroad fares, 
as has been explained. 

If a trunk seems indispensable, take a steamer trunk, 
which is half the height of an ordinary trunk, and is the 
only kind that is allowed in staterooms. It can there be 
stowed under the berth. A safe height for a steamer trunk 
is thirteen inches. 

If other trunks are to be taken, the simpler, plainer nad 
stronger they are, the better. Inventors have not had 
marked success in trunk devices, and though a few are good, 
most of them are more bother than they are worth. Bag¬ 
gage smashing is not so general in Europe as in America, 
but now and then you will see a trunk dropped from the 
top of an omnibus to the ground, and it is not safe to count 
on gentle handling. By reason of the baggage rates on 
Continental railroads, travelers use the lightest trunks they 
can get, frequently buying in Paris or London the cloth- 
cbvered wicker hampers in fvhich 10 bring home their pur¬ 
chases. I have heard of travelers who have carried these 
hampers about Europe without damaging them, and then 
had them ruined in getting from New York to Boston. The 
only one I ever bought was pretty nearly ruined before 
it got on the steamer, and I am not enthusiastic about their 
wearing qualities. 

Have your trunk marked with big colored crosses on 
the ends, conspicuous initials, or some other mark readily 
distinguished. There are frequent occasions when it must be 
picked out of a large pile of baggage,—on wharves, in cus¬ 
tomshouses, and on the platforms of English railway stations, 
for the English have no check system, and every time you 


PERSONALITIES. 


219 

leave the train, you must go to the luggage van and watch 
the trunks unloaded till yours appears. 

If you are to return from the port at which you land, the 
steamer trunk can be stored in the company’s warehouse, 
for a small fee or none. Ordinarily the passenger leaves it 
in the stateroom, with a tag or label showing the boat and 
date of return. The stewards put it in the baggage room on 
the dock, and when you come on board for the return trip 
it is found in the stateroom. Of course, though, it is safer to 
avoid any chance of misunderstanding or oversight by visit¬ 
ing the dock long enough before sailing to make sure that 
somebody attends to the matter. 

Should you cross by the southern route, to a Mediter¬ 
ranean port, with the intention of returning from a northern 
port by a boat of the same line, your trunk will be sent round 
there with little or no charge. 

If you want to take the steamer trunk with you, the 
steamer clothes, rug, ulster, or what you please, can well be 
put in a canvas bag you should have taken for the purpose, 
and stored as the trunk would have been stored. An ordinary 
flour sack will suffice and be quite safe. 

The steamer trunk has for travel on shore advantages 
in its compactness over the size customary with us, apart 
from the saving in railway charges. The American hack 
with its trunk rack behind is unknown abroad, where the 
“boxes” go on top of the cab or hansom, or else beside the 
driver. Though large trunks may in fact be thus carried, 
the small trunk is in this particular much the more con¬ 
venient for all concerned. 

Packing a trunk is an art by itself. The important thing 
is to pack tight. If the trunk has two trays 'and there are 
not enough things to fill them solid, fill in the bottom and 
one tray solid, and put in the other tray only things that can 
tumble without damage. Garments should be laid flat, rather 
than be rolled. It is useless to put heavy things at the bot¬ 
tom, for baggage smashers never regard a trunk’s equili¬ 
brium. Fragile articles should not touch sides, top or 
bottom, for there they will get the full force of concussion. 
If corks are tied up, even ink bottles can be safely carried 


220 


GOTNG ABROAD? 


round the world in the middle of a trunk. Newspapers make 
good protection for things that projecting corners may 
hurt. And let no woman ask her husband to pack a hat or 
waist in a trunk. Let her take the awful responsibility her¬ 
self. 

Of traveling bags, -the extension style gets the most 
approval from experienced travelers. Extension bags are 
seldom ornamental, but the appearance of luggage is never 
considered abroad. They fit their contents, will hold a sur¬ 
prising amount, and are not so easily crushed that starched 
linen is likely to get wrinkled, or a souvenir broken. Next 
in preference is that more recent invention, the dress suit 
case. It is the most easily packed, holds clothing with a few 
folds, protects its contents with its unyielding sides, and, 
best of all, can be carried with least fatigue, because it lets 
the handle come nearer the leg than is the case with other 
styles of bags, and to hold the hand away from the leg is 
one of the things that makes ca’—ying irksome. 

English tourists have a fondness for the “hold-all,” or 
“wrap-up,” a despicable-looking thing made o>f canvas and 
bound with leather, which has its good points. As its name 
signifies, it is merely a stout covering, flexible enough to 
adapt itself to its contents, however bulky they may be. A 
hold-all and an extension bag together will carry as much as 
a small trunk. As a substitute for the hold-all, a yard and 
a half of rubber cloth and a shawl-strap can be economically 
used, but don’t take a cheap shawl-strap; the stoutest is 
none too safe. 


THE LITTLE THINGS. 

I am addicted to the reticule habit, if I may extend a 
word usually applied to a woman’s hand-bag to cover the 
sort of satchel that of late years has been much used by men 
in their journeys between office and home, or away for a 
night. In long travels it serves as a receptacle for many con¬ 
venient things that are too bulky for the pocket, yet may be 
lost or hard to get to in a large valise. In such a small bag 
can be conveniently carried the guide book, the novel to be 
read on the train, time tables, field glasses, smoking utensils 


PERSONALITIES. 


221 


when smoking is a habit, playing cards, and a score of other 
little things likely to be in demand at any time, as well as 
fruit or luncheons. Women will find a cloth shopping bag 
equally handy, especially on shipboard, where it can be taken 
on deck with the writing materials, book, or other little 
things which are likely to be reeded during the day, ajid 
thus save tremulous trips to the stateroom. 

It adds to convenience if toilet articles are kept for the 
most part in separate bags and boxes. There should be a 
rubber bag for the sponge, a celluloid cover for the tooth¬ 
brush, a celluloid box for the soap, and a soiled-clothes bag. 
A woman will find use in a small bag for hairpins, brush, 
comb, and button-hook, made with a draw-string so that 
it can be hung in plain sight. 

The toilet requisites of travelers are so nearly alike the 
world over, that it seems almost superfluous to enumerate 
them. How absurd to tell any civilized being to take a 
tooth-brush! Yet in the haste of packing even a tooth-brush 
may be overlooked. So it will do no hurt, at any rate, to 
print this list. Of course, the classification is based on per¬ 
sonal notions: 

ESSENTIAL. 

Tooth-brush, in celluloid holder. 

Shaving-brush, in celluloid holder. 

Soap. 

Pocket-knife. 

Comb and hair-brush. 

Court plaster. 

Ink bottle with spring cover. 

Sponge. 

Vaseline. 

Telescoping drinking cup. 

Steamer rug (a thick carriage robe will serve, on a pinch). 

Shawl strap. 

Clothes-brush. 

Scissors. 

Stylographic or fountain pen-. 

Corkscrew. - 

Needles and thread. 

Pin cushion and safety pins. 

Toilet paper (in cloth case). 

Twine. 

Visiting cards. 


222 


GOING ABROAD? 


Buttons. 

Leather purse for coin. 

Address book and pencil. 

Collar buttons and shirt studs. 

For women—Glove and shoe buttons, sewing silk, tapes, hooks 
and eyes, hat pins, and small pins, black and white. 

For anybody whose eyes are weak, colored glasses. 

For the near-sighted, extra spectacles. 

DESIRABLE. 

Leather vial case, to be bought of a dealer in medical goods or 
through any apothecary, containing vials of Jamaica ginger, 
cholera medicine, listerine, arnica, medicine for coughs and colds, 
whiskey, toilet water, hamamelis, ink, paregoric. 

Bootlaces and hat string. 

Cathartic pills and quinine. 

Seidlitz powders. 

Pocket looking-glass. 

Pieces of flannel and cotton. 

Hot water bag. 

A few elastic bands; also tags and labels. 

Patent trouser buttons. 

Playing cards. 

Thin linen paper and envelopes. 

Tape measure or pocket rule. 

Diary. 

Folding alcohol lamp. 

Tube of tooth paste. 

Fur women, smelling salts. 

COMFORTS AND LUXURIES. 

Aneroid barometer; also pocket thermometer. 

Paper covered novels. 

For smokers—Swedish matches, sometimes called fusees. 
Binocular glasses (combining the merits of field and opera 
glasses); or opera glasses. 

Flask. 

Compass. 

Pocket tool chest, tools inside the handle. 

Small pillow, for steamer chair and in trains. 

CLOTHING. 

Every self-respecting man and woman accustomed to 
the conventionalities of society, wants at all times to be 
neatly dressed, but it is universally understopd that the exi¬ 
gencies of travel do not permit the variety and elegance of 
costume customary and practicable at home. Indeed, good 
taste does not justify the display of elaborate gowns and 


PERSONALITIES. 


223 


millinery on steamers, in cars, and at the tables of hotels 
frequented by transient guests. The plainest garb, therefore, 
is permissible in traveling, and as a European tour very 
seldom takes one where a stylish appearance is essential, it 
is both needless and foolish to cumber one’s self with a va¬ 
riety of wearing apparel. 

For the woman who does not expect to visit abroad, 
who plans nothing but sight-seeing, and who makes a quick 
trip, one skirt will suffice, unless its wearer has the misfor¬ 
tune to be caught in a driving rain without protection, but 
in the ordinary course of travel that is not likely to happen. 
Even should she be obliged once or twice to stay in her 
chamber an hour or two while the skirt was dried at the 
kitclien fire, the bother would be less than that of carrying 
along an extra skirt. To be sure, the idea of wearing the 
same skirt for two or three months seems intolerable to 
most women before they go, but, though I have heard the 
verdict of many women who have made the journey, I have 
yet to find one who thinks more than a single skirt an 
actual necessity, though some advise a second if a trunk is 
taken. 

The skirt should be of some dark material, preferably 
a serge or mohair. A coat of the same material, with a silk 
waist and several shirt waists, will suffice for outer garments, 
except, of course, a waterproof. In winter abroad and at all 
seasons on the steamer, some sort of a wrap is necessary, 
perhaps the most comfortable being a cape ulster. Of 
course, it is absurd to wear on shipboard anything that will 
be damaged by salt water, for spray is sure to fly. Women 
should plan their garments for the voyage so that they can 
dress and undress with the utmost possible speed; five min¬ 
utes’ delay in the stateroom may send one back to her berth, 
though she would have, been all right could she only have 
reached the deck. 

Older clothes are the common thing on shipboard, but 
that does not mean shabby clothes. Whoever takes dilapi¬ 
dated garments on board with the idea of throwing them 
away on reaching the other side, will grieve. Once the 
qualms of seasickness are gone, it is as satisfying to be neatly 


GOING ABROAD? 


224 

dressed on the ocean as it is on the land. The wise will not 
aim at elegance, nor be unhappy if the garments are not of 
the very latest and most extreme fashion, but they will 
regret appearing disreputable. Don’t forget that steamer 
chairs give shoes more than usual prominence. 

A wrapper or bath-robe is a convenience on the steamer, 
but it is bothersome to carry about on land. Pajamas are 
highly recommended by men who have used them in berths, 
by reason of the protection they give against draughts and 
cold. In the cold rooms and damp beds of Southern 
Europe during the winter season, flannel or flannelette night 
gowns will be found a comfort by both men and women. 

Two sets of under-clothing may be made to suffice, for 
washing is done very quickly at all foreign hotels; yet most 
people will prefer to carry the slight additional weight of 
another set. Silk underwear has strong advocates among 
those who have tried it, and, though costlier at the outset, 
is said to be more economical in the long run, standing the 
laundering better. India (not China) silk is advised, as 
being the more easily washed. It sheds rather than gathers 
dust; does not retain wrinkles; and keeps the body at an 
even temperature, as it does not conduct the heat so readily 
as cotton or wool. People who habitually wear thick woolen 
under garments during American winters, will find them no 
less comfortable in Southern Europe at the same season, 
though the thermometer may range much higher than on 
this side the water. On the way over, whether in summer 
or winter, women may find flannel knickerbockers or silk 
equestrian tights more convenient than thick petticoats. 

Another garment that in winter will be found most 
serviceable for both men and women, is the sweater. As a 
comfort-giver on the deck of the steamer, in railway cars 
when on long journeys, in hotel chambers, even in art gal¬ 
leries, and when driving, I have never found its equal. It 
is nearly as warm as an ulster and far more comfortable 
when the wearer is walking. Thus far it has been monopo¬ 
lized by people with athletic proclivities, and custom does 
not permit its use as yet to elderly people, but I feel sure 


PERSONALITIES. 


225 

that when travelers come to understand its merits, they 
will make more use of it. 

Of course, I do not advise anybody to wear a sweater in 
Hyde Park or the Bois, on the Boulevard des Italiennes or 
the Corso, at the theatre or the table d’hote. In places where 
people congregate, everybody should want to dress in a way 
that will not attract attention by eccentricity, and it is true 
that one is never so much judged by dress as when traveling, 
because then one is judged entirely at first sight. But shiver¬ 
ing memories of the railway cars of Europe and the galleries 
of Italy in winter, of the passes of the Alps in summer, 
convince me that there are times when, even in the presence 
of strangers, comfort and health are of more consequence 
than appearances. As a general rule, however, one should 
wear in public abroad nothing that he would not wear in 
similar surroundings at home. 

Thick underclothing may or may not be welcome on 
shipboard, according to the weather. Summer days at sea 
are often uncomfortably warm. 

A garment that deserves more popularity is called the 
Rigby, a substitute for the mackintosh. I found it in Canada, 
and though it may be sold elsewhere, I have ndver seen it 
exposed for sale in the States. The dealer told me it had 
been chemically treated so that it was waterproof; without 
doubting his veracity, I will merely quote the belief of 
others that it had been extra shrunk before making up. 
Anyway, it will stand any wetting to which it is likely to be 
exposed in travel. It is a soft plaid woolen, made long and 
with a cape, much more agreeable to the touch than the 
mackintosh, and it can be folded, jammed, twisted, without 
getting to look disreputable till it is fairly worn out. I have 
used it for a blanket when camping in the woods, for a 
pillow, for an extra covering on cool nights when traveling, 
for a seat, for the outer covering of a shawl-strap bundle 
during many weeks of travel, besides for the ordinary pur¬ 
poses of a water-proof and light overcoat, and I haven’t 
been able to ruin the thing, or even to injure it perceptibly. 
Perhaps it is made for women, though I have seen it only for 
men. It has seemed to me that if travelers of either sex, 


226 


GOING ABROAD? 


unable to find just this thing offered for sale, would have a 
long coat, with detachable cape and without lining, made of 
a light, soft woolen plaid, extra shrunk, they " r oul£l find it 
in a foreign tour a most useful substitute lor light overcoat, 
mackintosh, or ulster. 

I am not audacious enough to enter the domain of 
women’s headwear more than to suggest what ought to be 
self-evident, that the wind plays havoc with broad-brimmed 
hats, and that they are uncomfortable in railway cars, espe¬ 
cially those abroad, for there the seats are always against 
partitions. The same suggestion may be made to men; the 
stiff, flat, wide brim of a straw hat is certainly less adapted 
to traveling than any other sort of brim. Indeed, men will 
find a stiff hat of any kind uncomfortable, whether it be 
Derby or silk. Possibly it may violate the laws of good 
dress to wear a cap all the time, yet it is certainly the most 
pleasurable of all head coverings. A felt hat has its good 
points, but in summer it is warm. A cap that can be jammed 
into the pocket without injury on entering a church or mu¬ 
seum is a great convenience, for to read from a guide book 
while holding a stiff hat under one’s arm requires unusual 
dexterity and good nature. A Derby is, of course, the de¬ 
sirable hat in city streets, but a man could go all through 
Europe with a soft outing cap and never feel that his head¬ 
covering was attracting attention or making him the subject 
of unpleasant comment. Of course, if ceremonious calls 
are to be made, the conditions are quite different; I refer to 
traveling in Europe, not to staying there. 

On the boat the woman tourist will find a cap, Tam o’ 
Shanter or hood the most useful thing, and for men a soft 
hat or cap is a sine qua non. 

For the feet, light-colored shoes are, on the whole; 
preferable, because they look better with less care. Every 
healthy tourist is sure to do a great deal of walking, and 
many a night the feet will ache. So only the easiest of 
shoes should be worn, and, for the same reason, slippers will 
prove a big relief in hotels and pensions. Women should 
take a pair of soft, heelless dressing slippers. 

Outing shirts for men are far the most comfortable, and 


PERSONALITIES. 


227 


they have the decided advantage of not yielding so quickly 
to the grime of railway trains and the perspiration of exer¬ 
cise, which the traveler cannot avoid. Now that for four or 
five months of the year they are commonly worn in the day¬ 
time, their suitability for travel is beyond question. At the 
table d’hote and at any place of resort after dark, the white 
shirt and collar are, of course, desirable, and almost every 
man, after a day’s sight-seeing or car-riding, is glad to get 
into fresh garments of a somewhat more genteel character, 
so that a white shirt or two should be found in every travel¬ 
ing-bag, but in the daytime the younger men, at any rate, 
may safely give the outing shirt the preference. The tourist 
with even the most dapper instincts can afford to remember 
that common sense does not demand him to compete in 
dress with the men he will see in Piccadilly or the Unter 
den Linden. 

What is called a business suit is the most appropriate 
costume a man can wear, and it is needless for him to take 
along any other. Of course, there is satisfaction in putting 
on a black coat Sundays or for dinner, but its absence will 
not be remarked. A dress suit is wholly needless for almost 
every tourist. If you get the chance to attend some dinner 
party or state function, hire a dress suit if you can’t borrow 
one. Unless you have ii timate friends living abroad, the 
chances of such a need are remote. You would not like to 
sit in certain parts of the opera house at Paris unless you 
were in evening dress, but there are plenty of seats where 
a black cutaway or Prince Albert will be just exactly as 
satisfactory to yourself and everybody else, and a sack suit 
will arouse no comment. 

Walking-sticks are an incumbrance that will not be en¬ 
dured by men not irretrievably bound to the cane habit. 
Many will prefer not to take an umbrella, but to buy one 
should imperative occasion arise; it may not happen at all 
that you will be in rain where an umbrella will be demanded. 
Women will need the lightest of rubbers; men will not need 
them. The streets of all European cities are paved, and you 
never come across anything like genuine American mud. 
In Northern Europe in winter, goloshes might occasionally 


228 


GOING ABROAD? 


prove useful, but the streets are so quickly cleared of snow 
that they are less serviceable than in the States. Women 
are likely to need rubbers on ship-board by reason of wet 
decks, and an extra pair of shoes against the chance of 
waves wetting one pair. 

In all this advice it will be noticed that comfort is the 
first consideration style the last. This is partly because style 
is actually of less consequence in Europe than in America, 
for though the aristocrats of London are the best dressed men 
in the world, and the demi-monde of Paris displays the women 
who think themselves the best dressed women in the world, 
the mass of the people are more indifferent to the dictates of 
fashion than those of American cities, and there is a variety 
in costume which relieves the stranger from appearing odd 
if he consults his purse or fancy. But the advice is given 
chiefly because comfort is, indeed, the most important thing 
in travel, for travel is hard work, hard physical work, and it 
cannot be enjoyed if the demands of the body are ignored. 

POOD AND DRINK. 

Most important of bodily demands is that of the stom¬ 
ach. Fortunately, the traveler in Europe has little need of 
counsel in this regard, for the cooking is uniformly superior 
to that of America, and, except in Great Britain and Hol¬ 
land, the customs do not encourage over-eating, perhaps the 
most prolific cause of bodily disorders. 

In Central and Southern Europe it is the universal 
practice that the first meal of the day shall consist of coffee 
or chocolate, with a roll and butter. 

This seems all wrong to the American before he gets 
there. He thinks he never will be able to last till luncheon 
time if he can’t add at least an egg or two, and a beefsteak 
or mutton chop would not be unwelcome. Yet, after trying 
the Continental plan for a week, rare is the American who 
hungers for the hearty American breakfast. Nevertheless, 
Americans who go back and forth frequently tell me that, 
though on the other side the coffee and roll seem amply 
sufficient, the moment they land in New York they have to 
go back to more substantial dishes, Perhaps the climate 


PERSONALITIES. 


229 


has something to do with it. Certain it is, too, that the 
Briton and the Dutchman, when at home, insist on starting 
the day with a liberal supply of fuel, perhaps because their 
cold winters demand it. 

The Continental custom of serving both luncheon and 
dinner in courses prevents fast eating, and therefore is more 
healthy than the America" custom, though very trying to the 
American patience. 

Each portion seems small, and nobody has the audacity 
to ask for a second "help,” yet somehow, when you have 
finished, your appetite has been satisfied. Bean ascribes to 
this the fact that on his last trip he lost twenty pounds, yet 
came home in better health than he had enjoyed for years. 
And it is sure that sickness among American travelers 
abroad is rarer than among an equal number of Americans 
of the same station in life at home, though doubtless that 
is partly because they are usually in good health when they 
start. 

When you have your choice of dishes, as at cafes, order 
what is local if you want the best. What can you expect if 
you order salmon in Switzerland or macaroni in Edinboro? 
Food is one of the few things where price is no index of 
quality. The cheapest dishes are often the most delicious. 

Wine is another article that is best where it is produced. 
It is often hurt by transportation, and away from its home 
it is often adulte/ated. For example, it is almost impossible 
for any but an expert to get pure sherry anywhere save in 
Jerez, Spain. The most delicious of Italian wine, the Monte- 
fiascone, is only to be found at its best in the neighborhood 
of Orvieto, for it is injured even by carrying as far as Rome, 
and would be utterly worthless if conveyed to Paris; 
for that reason it is cheap at Orvieto, in spite of its excel¬ 
lence. 

Therefore the wine of a district, the vin ordinaire, is not 
to be despised because it is of low cost. 

From the fact that wine is the common beverage of the 
Latin countries and beer of the Germanic countries, it does 
not follow that Americans must use either wine or beer. So 
many American and English believers in total abstinence 


GOING ABROAD? 


230 

have successfully fought to get water or milk in Continental 
hotels, that now the total abstainer attracts no attention. 
Tolerable drinking water is always to be secured, but it is 
usually not as cold as we like it, and the European does not 
appreciate our wish that it be freshly drawn. The water in 
the carafes always to be found on the wash stands in Euro¬ 
pean hotels is supposed to be fit for drinking, even though 
it may have been put there hours before. 

TOBACCO. 

The smoking American has a hard time of it on the 
Continent. In several of the countries, notably France, 
Spain, and Italy, the trade is in the hands of the govern¬ 
ment, or so enormously taxed that it is virtually a govern¬ 
ment monopoly. Whatever may be the benefits to the na¬ 
tional exchequer, there are certainly none to the consumer, 
and if a Nationalist or State Socialist wants arguments to 
support his theories, let him shun the subject of European 
tobacco. 

Pipe smokers will find no plug tobacco abroad. They 
can get American brands of long cut or fine cut only at exor¬ 
bitant prices. Where the monopoly prevails, the common 
smoking tobaccos offered for sale will cure the habit if any¬ 
thing will. 

Italian cigars are about the meanest cigars man ever 
perpetrated on a suffering community. French cigars are 
not much better. Havanas can be bought in the Latin 
countries, at high rates. 

The Germanic races come nearer understanding what is 
good in the tobacco line. Cigars are cheap in Switzerland, 
cheaper in Germany, and “dog cheap” in Holland. In fact, 
Holland is the paradise of smokers. Tobacco is absolutely 
free of duty there, if I understand right, and partly by reason 
of the fact that Sumatra is a Dutch possession, Holland leads 
the world in some branches of the tobacco trade. So .he 
discreet smoker will bring home from Holland as many 
cigars as he can. In Rotterdam or Amsterdam he can buy 
for two cents apiece cigars that in many American cigar 
stores would retail for ten cents straight; and for five cents 


PERSONALITIES. 231 

he can get luxury that in America a millionaire would deem 
extravagance. 

The cigarette habit prevails in France, Italy, and Spain, 
so that decent cigarettes can be bought, but Turkish or 
Egyptian cigarettes are not given away. In Germany and 
Austria pipe smoking is more common, and in Great Britain 
it would seem as if most men smoked a pipe, both in doors 
and out. 


MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. 

Americans and Englishmen do not bear a good reputa¬ 
tion on the Continent in point of manners. The typical 
Briton is believed to be a brute, the typical Yankee a boor. 
Unfortunately our nation has been too often represented 
abroad by shoddy aristocrats, the newly rich. Of late we 
have sent over every year a much larger proportion of re¬ 
fined and cultivated people, who are gradually redeeming 
our reputation, and some of our observant countrymen are 
vain enough to think we are nearing the ideals of courtesy 
faster than the English. 

Without infringing on the hallowed precincts of a book 
of etiquette, and without expecting that the most sensible ad¬ 
vice can move the prejudices of the innately vulgar, yet I 
may hazard a few suggestions and a little information to the 
American who realizes the good sense of adapting himself 
somewhat to the customs of the nation he may visit. 

First of all it may be pointed out that courtesy is so 
common among the people of the Continent as to make 
the lack of it more offensive than in our own less consider¬ 
ate land. Nothing whatever is to be gained by the dic¬ 
tatorial manner, even when dealing with Europeans of the 
lower classes. A smile will accomplish much more than a 
frown. The good-natured man will travel with far more 
ease and comfort than the man who frets and fumes and 
scolds and swears. More flies are caught with molasses than 
with vinegar. 

Remember that the old traveler is self-contained. He 
makes the best of the situation, without venting to his neigh¬ 
bor either surprise or indignation. Of all travelers the fussy 


232 


GOTNG ABROAD? 


iii<ui is the biggest bore. If you don’t like things and there 
is no remedy, keep your mouth shut. The kicker may get 
more, but at what a cost! Of course on the first trip a great 
many things are new and at first sight uncomfortable, but 
when a thing is, there is usually a reason for it, and a justi¬ 
fication. Give it a fair test, learn it, before you grumble 
about it. 

Human hogs are always met in traveling. The Ameri¬ 
can instinct is to fight for one’s rights and baffle the hog, 
but if American shrewdness fails to carry the day, better 
leave the field to the hog; there is little satisfaction and 
much discomfort in open battle with him. 

The human iceberg is almost as disagreeable, and 
strange to say its nationality is more likely to be American 
than anything else. Just as the Puritans reasoned that all 
pleasure must be sinful, so in our reaction from the free and 
easy manners that gave Dickens and others the chance for 
ridicule half a century ago, some of our ultra-cultured peo¬ 
ple are going to the extreme of frigidity and formality. 
Probably it was an American aristocrat who refused to help 
a drowning man because she had not been introduced to 
him. But considerations of humanity aside, the truth is that 
courtesy should ever rise superior to conventionality. Cour¬ 
tesy does not require one to embrace every stranger, but 
it does call for conversation at dinner tables, and for com¬ 
panionship in diligences, railway compartments, and othei 
places where people must pass time close together. The 
people of the Continent are very considerate in this regard, 
and the higher their rank, the more gracious their bearing. 
Two of the pleasantest and kindest dinner companions I 
ever met turned out to be a German countess and baroness, 
and their titles remained unknown to me for several day^ 
after they first said “Good morning” in the pension at 
Rome where chance threw us together; at evening in the 
parlor they led in all endeavors toward sociability. What a 
contrast that parlor was to the parlor of an American sum¬ 
mer hotel! It was the difference between June and Dece n- 
ber. 

Courtesy abroad does not go by strata. People there 


PERSONALITIES. 


233 


know how to be gracious to their social inferiors without 
being condescending. On the Continent every woman, no 
matter what her dress or occupation may show to be her 
station in life, gets at least the outward tokens of respect. 
In France the commonest drudge must be saluted as 
“Madame”; every man,-even to the humblest, is “Monsieur.” 
In Italy it should be “Signore” or “Signora”; in Spain, 
“Senor” or “Senora.” In the Germanic countries no appella¬ 
tion of this sort is customary in addressing strangers, but 
the salutation is always couched in respectful phrase. In 
Great Britain, however, salutations to strangers are as awk¬ 
ward and unceremoious as with us,—worse, in fact, because 
there one must not use the interjectional “Sir” so freely as 
we use it. To an Englishman that term is more one of 
servility than of courtesy, and it is not to be used in address¬ 
ing men supposed to be of socially inferior position. By 
the way, it is not commonly taught in the schools nor told in 
the books that the familiar French phrase, “s’il vous plait,”— 
“if you please,”—is not the proper phrase to employ where 
there is no flavor of command; it may be addressed to a 
waiter or chambermaid or anybody else in giving an order, 
or what amounts to an order, but not properly to the host 
when accepting something at table, nor in general when the 
idea to be expressed is our “with pleasure”; “volontiers” or 
something of the sort is then preferable. 

The English phrase that most worries and wearies the 
American is “Thank you.” By tradespeople, clerks, every¬ 
body of low degree it is used interminably, without any re¬ 
gard to its meaning, and pronounced with a peculiar rising 
inflection that rasps the ear till it becomes intolerable. 

Everywhere on the Continent it is usual to say “Good- 
day” in the language of the locality on entering or leaving 
an office or a shop. Frequently it is spoken on entering or 
leaving a railway compartment, and the almost universal 
custom at such moments is for men to salute by raising the 
hat or a courteous bow. Also, it is the proper thing when 
entering or leaving the dining-room of a hotel or pension, 
to salute or to bow a farewell to those who may be at table. 
A party of Americans, entering late the dining-room of a 


334 


GOING ABROAD? 


small hotel in Spain, saw at a separate table a group of 
Spanish gentlemen enjoying their after-dinner cigars. 
Though there were ladies in the American party, Spanish 
courtesy did not demand that the Spaniards should stop 
their smoking, but presently it was noted that when they 
left the room, each Spaniard bowed courteously to the Amer¬ 
icans, though their table had been at some distance and not 
a word had been interchanged. 

On the streets of Continental cities the most striking 
difference between foreign customs and those of America is 
in the handling of the hat. Men ordinarily salute each other 
by lifting the hat, and of course they pay the same compli¬ 
ment to all women of their acquaintance. A most admirable - 
practice is the respect shown to grief by lifting the hat when¬ 
ever a coffin passes; all men will do this, whether the coffin 
contains prince or pauper. It is a custom that every Ameri¬ 
can will do well to bring home with him. 

In all offices and banking rooms it is usual to remove 
the hat; sometimes in cafes and even in confectionery shops. 
The stranger who neglects this may find himself requested to 
do it in Germany or Russia; and it is not uncommon to ask 
it even in the post-offices and hotel lobbies of Russia, often 
because of the holy image standing in some dark corner. 
Ladies will not encounter such requests save on the floor of 
some of the leading Parisian theatres, where hats are not 
permitted to be worn. Possibly the time will come when 
every woman in every audience room everywhere will realize 
the injustice she does to those behind her by wearing either 
a high hat or a high coiffure; and all men will bless that 
freak of fashion which some day may induce ladies to dis¬ 
pense with their head-wear in-doors altogether. 

Americans going abroad for business purposes are at 
first at a loss as to how to dress to best advantage. In 
London the silk hat and frock coat are an essential to the 
business man who would get a respectful hearing. Should 
he enter an office clad in the usual business suit of New 
York or Chicago, he would at the outset handicap himself 
by giving an unfavorable impression, for all the self-respect¬ 
ing merchants and moneyed men of London follow the 


PERSONALITIES. 


235 


fashion set by the Bank of England in ordering its clerks 
to wear tall hats and black frock coats during business hours. 
Yet cross over to a German city and that costume would be 
enough to arouse the suspicion of frivolity or shallowness, 
for your substantial German merchant or manufacturer has 
little respect for the niceties of dress. 

The etiquette of large commercial and manufacturing 
establishments abroad is formal and uncompromising. If 
an American approaches their officials with the brusque, 
breezy manner common to many of our pushing business 
men, he will be met with a rebuff that will freeze him, and 
no amount of argument will overcome the prejudice he will 
have aroused. A man of affairs who had occasion to visit 
the leading cities of the Germanic countries on a business 
mission, thus describes the procedure: “On entering an 
office, your name and business must be stated to an attendant, 
who shows you into a small waiting-room, always provided 
for the purpose. The servant takes your card within, and if 
your visit is in order, you are in due course shown into the 
presence of t'he manager, usually termed the Herr Directeur. 
Before entering, you must leave on the table in the anteroom 
your hat and stick. The proper greeting is to bow low, 
place your right hand on your left breast, and say, T have 
the honor.’ Then you hope the director has enjoyed good 
health, and add something complimentary if you are quick¬ 
witted enough to think of the right thing to say. By this time 
the frown on the brow of the great man has faded; he pro¬ 
duces cigars, is amazed that you do not smoke, and the 
conversation drifts into the business in hand. If he invites 
you to go into an adjoining room, or out into the works, 
the matter of precedence in passing through the door sudden¬ 
ly assumes importance, and it often takes half a minute to 
get the tangle straightened out. The director motions you 
forward, but you fall back and implore him, ‘Bitte, Herr 
Directeur.’ He says an urgent ‘Bitte’ to you; but you are 
firm, and he gravely passes out before. You meet him later 
on the street, and if the acquaintance is well advanced, he 
takes his hat entirely off, dips it twice, and advances rapidly 
with extended hand to greet you—you, of course, doing the 
same. 


236 


GOING ABROAD? 


“Then the hours. While the workmen are in their places 
at 7 o’clock, the office seldom begins before half-past 8 or 
9; and you must never appear for business until after 10. At 
that hour all business, mechanical and commercial, comes 
to a stop; and the men repair to the nearest beer-shops and 
restaurants for beer or wine and a light lunch. This takes 
half an hour. Then at 12 all hands knock off for a leisurely 
dinner, followed by a long, quiet smoke, with perhaps a game 
of cards, a newspaper or a discussion. This intermission 
lasts two hours, and during the period business comes as 
completely to a standstill as if it were Sunday or a holiday. 
Wholesale houses, manufactories, brokers’ offices, banks, 
etc., are closed up tight as a drum. At 2 o’clock the doors 
are unlocked, and the wheels begin to move. From that 
hour till 7 and even 8 o’clock at night commercial business 
goes on steadily. The mechanic works cheerfully ten and 
eleven hours and subscribes funds for his English brothers 
striking for eight. There is some variation in these prac¬ 
tices in different Continental countries, but substantially 
they are the same everywhere. Men move much more slowly 
than with us.” 

Italians have an odd way of beckoning. In America 
people wave the hand toward them when they desire a 
person’s approach; in Italy it is just the opposite. When 
an Italian waves a goodby to you with his hand you imagine 
he is calling you back, and if he wants you to approach he 
motions with his hand as Americans do in making a gesture 
of repulsion. 

Somewhere I have picked up a list of the insults that an 
American may unwittingly offer to a foreigner. Without 
vouching for the accuracy of the statements, I give them for 
what they are worth:— 

In England, if a friend is visiting another, and stays to 
dinner, he may ask for the loan of a hairbrush without 
giving offence; but in Hungary he may not. To attempt to 
borrow that useful article is one of the greatest insults which 
can be offered to a Hungarian, and one which will in most 
cases cause a duel. 

In France the unwary foreigner may be visiting a friend j 


PERSONALITIES. 


237 


and may put his hat upon the bed. This is a grievous form 
of insult, but why it is not known; it is a very ancient one, 
and so probably results from an old superstition. 

Again, there are two ways of pouring out wine in France, 
as everywhere else. One of these is to hold the bottle so that 
while pouring the thumb is facing the table cloth. The 
second way is to hold the hand reversed—that is, with the 
knuckles downward—and this is a great insult to the as¬ 
sembled guests and the host—a far greater insult than drink¬ 
ing a health in water, and that is pretty seri'ous in France. 

In Germany, to offer to a lady a rose, or any other 
liower, without any green or leaves with it, is to insult her 
deeply, though why this should be so is not known pre¬ 
cisely. 

In Italy it is deemed insulting to refuse a pinch of snuff. 


CHAPTER X. 

SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 

It is not necessary to know the least thing about any for¬ 
eign language in order to enjoy a European tour and profit 
by it. Every decent hotel on the common lines of travel has 
at least one employee who can speak English, usually the 
portier, who knows anywhere from three to half a dozen 
languages enough for conversational purposes. Often, too, 
the head waiter speaks English, and frequently there are 
others at hand able to understand you. Indeed, the readi¬ 
ness with which his own tongue is understood grieves and 
annoys the traveler who has hoped in the ordinary course of 
travel to learn something of foreign tongues. Abandon 
that expectation. 

Outside the hotels there is slight necessity for being a 
linguist, though it is often advantageous. To master the 
names of the coins and to learn to count will answer all abso¬ 
lute requirements, and that can be done in an hour. Even 
this is not necessary when anybody else in the party already 
knows it. 

Carry a phrase book in your pocket and you can ordi¬ 
narily find some one who can read the questions to which 
you point, if you dare not try pronunciation. 

Statisticians flatter us by proving that English is the 
coming language of the civilized world, that more people 
will speak it than any other, perhaps already speak it. 
However that may be, certain it is that French has not yet 
surrendered its paramount position. It is the native tongue 
of but a small fraction of the world’s population, but it 
unmistakably leads as the second-best language, so to speak, 
the language studied and acquired by more people than any 
other. 

It is the language of diplomacy, the language of fashion, 
238 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 239 

and the language of travel. So for the sake of convenience, 
let me use it to symbolize all foreign languages, and say of it 
what may be said of any of the rest. 

LEARNING A LANGUAGE. 

Every American who has studied French at home feels 
a. keen disappointment when he goes to Paris. He may not 
have been vain enough to expect that his school French 
would be of much use, but he has felt certain that it would be 
be of some use. In fact, however, it is practically unavail¬ 
able, wherever the ear is concerned. Of course, to read 
French is no more difficult in Paris than in Boston, but to 
understand it is much harder in a Parisian hotel or audience 
room than in an American class-room. The reason is sim¬ 
ple,—‘in the class-room it has been enunciated slowly and 
with distinctness, but on its native heath it runs like a hare. 
When speaking English in conversation, we give full weight 
to but a small part of the letters; the intuition of the auditor 
fills in the blanks between the few sounds his ear really 
catches. The Frenchman does the same, but your class-room 
practice has not cultivated the intuition to the extent neces¬ 
sary for comprehending t'he foreign conversation. The 
Frenchman doesn’t really talk so very fast; it is your brain 
that is going so very slow. 

Even if you have learned to converse readily with a 
French teacher, you will for days be helpless in Parisian con¬ 
versation, for you have learned the vocal habits of but one 
person, and these habits vary more than the features or the 
carriage. You must learn a thousand intonations, a thousand 
accents, before you get facility. This training of the ear, the 
vocal organs, the brain, and the nerves that telegraph be¬ 
tween them, takes time, practice, study, and genuine hard 
work. At the very quickest, it will take three months of life 
in a French family, and study in every feasible way before a 
foreigner will be justified in saying that he can speak and 
understand ordinary French, and it will be a year before he 
can deem himself an adept. He never can get a really thor¬ 
ough command of its idioms, if he goes to France after the 
age when children cease to acquire languages wholly by ear 


240 


GOING ABROAD? 


and begin to understand their principles. So if any mar 
who did not leave America till after he was a dozen years 
old tells you he can speak French like a native, set him 
down as a braggart and a liar, for he knows he can’t. Chil¬ 
dren acquire a foreign tongue with a rapidity that to the 
adult seems marvelous; it is a pity that more of them are not 
taken abroad during the years when they can become ‘lin¬ 
guists without money and without price,—’better still, with¬ 
out time and haid work. 

I have been speaking of the ability to carry on a continu¬ 
ous conversation in French. That is quite different from the 
ability to understand a lecture or sermon; the formal speaker 
enunciates more clearly, speaks more slowly, uses less idioms 
and no colloquialisms. Therefore, to hear lectures and ser¬ 
mons is the best beginning for a vocal study of French, and 
I would advise every one who goes to Paris with the idea 
of studying the language, to attend as many “conferences” 
at the Sorbonne as possible, to attend French Protestant 
churches on Sunday mornings, and to frequent the theatres 
as much as the purse will permit. On the stage, however, 
the flow of words is almost as rapid as in conversation, and 
it will always be well to lead over the play in advance. In 
Paris it is almost always possible to hear standard plays that 
can be bought, or found in a circulating library. The classic 
comedies are given most frequently at the Odeon, the theatre 
in the Latin Quarter, which ranks as the second best theatre 
in France, in point of acting. Like the Comedie Francaise, 
which leads the world, it gets a subsidy from the govern¬ 
ment, in return for which it is bound not only to give fre¬ 
quent performances of standard works, but also to present 
them at reduced prices, that they may not be too costly for 
students; the demand for tickets is not great, and excellent 
seats can be easily secured at prices which make i't about the 
cheapest sort of French instruction. By taking the book 
and following the play, the ear will be aided, and, better 
still, the correct pronunciation can be learned. In conver¬ 
sation few people pronounce correctly, either in English or 
in French, but incorrect pronunciation would not be tol¬ 
erated on the stage >of the Odeon or the Comedie Francaise; 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 241 

indeed, the theatre is so much of a national institution in 
France that it sets the standard for pronunciation and elocu¬ 
tion. At the Comedie Franeaise the prices are higher and 
the attendance larger, so that though its acting is the best in 
the woild, for the student of French it is not so convenient 
as the Odeon. In many of the other theatres, slang and 
idiom bother the student. 

It is not difficult to acquire French enough for traveling 
purposes, to learn to ask for what you want, to barter, to in¬ 
quire your way, to direct the cabman. The number of words 
required for these purposes is surprisingly small; indeed, the 
vocabulary of all ordinary conversation is very limited. But 
ic is the vocabulary that you must have, not the grammar. 
Better know a hundred nouns and a few adjectives than be 
able to conjugate every irregular verb in the language. 
Words, words, words,—are what you want; rules rules, rules 
can go to perdition, for all the good they are in a traveler’s 
predicaments. The man who will memorize two hundred 
words on the way across will get along better than the man 
who can translate a novel to perfection. 

Bean, who has an excellent reading knowledge of 
French, tells me that the first time he took a bath in Paris, 
he found when he was ready to leave the tub that there was 
no towel in the room. Ringing for an attendant, he tried to 
ask for a towel, but to save him he couldn’t think of the 
French word for it. As it is not uncommon for people to 
take their own towels to the bath, and if you want one fur¬ 
nished you must get it when you go in, the attendant was 
not quick to comprehend what Bean wanted, so he chattered 
and dripped and chattered for several minutes before he 
could show by gestures what he needed. 

How to put words together is a matter of minor im¬ 
portance for the traveler, but the schools teach that first, for 
they have in mind reading rather than speaking. 

It is better to know a little French thoroughly than a 
deal of it imperfectly. There is no time to study the question 
that may be asked, to puzzle it out. Now and then you can 
get it repeated very slowly, but that is impracticable in con¬ 
versation. Listen at the dinner table, and though you might 


242 


GOING ABROAD:* 

be able to translate every word were it spoken by itself, yet 
if the important words of a sentence do not on the instant 
convey an impression to the mind, they will be drowned by 
the following sentences and the conversation will be unin¬ 
telligible. So have what you do know at your tongue’s end, 
or just at that part of the brain to which the message is tele¬ 
graphed from the ear. Add to thorough knowledge little by 
little, and in time mastery will come. 

The trouble with about all the grammars and phrase 
books is that they mix thoroughly the words and rules 
seldom needed with those constantly needed. The second 
person singular of the imperfect subjunctive, which you 
wouldn’t use or hear in a lifetime, maybe, is just as prominent 
in the grammar as the first person of the present indicative, 
which will be used constantly. 

There are a hundred ways of getting a book knowledge 
of a foreign language, and each has its friends. In advocat¬ 
ing one of them I seek no quarrel with the others. It is 
merely a personal belief that the quickest course is to read 
the grammar through without study, in order to get an idea 
of the structure of the language; then to read it carefully, a 
little each day, but to put the most of the time into search¬ 
ing analysis of simple diction. Take a French play by some 
modern writer, preferably a drama of society, and write out 
a translation of a page or two. The next day try to re-write 
it in French and compare with the original. For study by 
one’s self, surely this has its advantages. But when prac¬ 
ticable this should be merely accessory to conversation with 
a French teacher, who should be asked to speak little or no 
English in the course of the lesson. 

The best way to learn to read French is to read,—not 
with the dictionary, but as an English book would be read; 
not translating at all, but reading in French. The first time 
you try this, you will doubtless get but a slight inkling of the 
opening chapter; in the second,a glimpse of the story will re¬ 
veal itself; by the time the book is finished, most of it will 
have been comprehended. Common, essential words that at 
first were not understood, will after a while be learned by 
guessing with the help of the different contexts. A word that 


SOMFWHAT LTTERARY. 


*43 

persistently evades, may at last be looked up in the diction¬ 
ary; then it will not be forgotten, as it would have been had 
you looked it up the first time you saw it. 

The great thing is to learn to think in the language you 
would speak or understand, and not to translate. That 
comes only with time and training, but in time it will come 
to anybody. 

GUIDE BOOKS. 

Baedeker’s guide books are undoubtedly the best ever 
printed. For the tourist who wants to do any city or country 
thoroughly, they are indispensable. Prepared with charac¬ 
teristic German regard for minutiae and accuracy, they come 
as near perfection as book-making can accomplish. Fre¬ 
quent editions keep them up to date, and it is reasonably safe 
to trust them in every detail. The only criticism that can be 
made on them is that they are somewhat voluminous for the 
hurrying tourist, and as there is one for each country, some¬ 
times two or three for a country, they are rather bulky 
for transportation. This difficulty can be well overcome by 
getting them as you go along; they are to be found in 
every city. Then when you leave a country, mail its guide 
book to yourself in care of your banker at London, with 
memorandum, “To be held till called for,” or, “Not to be 
forwarded.” On your last visit to the banker, get the books 
and take them home with you; they will prove invaluable 
there, to refresh your memory on hazy points, to aid you in 
giving advice to others about to make the trip, and for the 
fund of historical, geo-graphical and statistical information 
they contain. 

This may seem rather expensive, for the Baedekers aver¬ 
age to cost not far from two dollars, but to go without them 
is penny wise and pound foolish. Rightly used, they save far 
more than they cost; directly, through their information 
about hotels, about prices of admission, about where to give 
fees and where not to give, and how much the fee should be, 
if any, about cab fares, and all the other routine expenditures; 
and indirectly, through the gain of time by knowing when 
show places are open, what routes to take for covering a city 


244 


GOING ABROAD? 


systematically, and where the important sights are to be 
found. The last benefit is not the least. Nothing is more 
vexatious than to be reminded after you have left a place of 
something you have omitted, which then is more than likely 
to seem as important as all the rest put together. 

I pin my faith on Baedeker and do not profess to thor¬ 
ough acquaintance with other series, but with the help of a 
comprehensive article on the subject by a well-informed and 
accurate writer, John Ritchie, Jr., I can add to my own ob¬ 
servations enough to cover the ground. 

Of general guides to Europe four are published in this 
country. Two of them, “A Satchel Guide,” published by 
Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, and “Cassell’s Complete 
Pocket Guide to Europe,” published by William R. Jenkins, 
New York, are of the small, single-volume variety, more con¬ 
venient for the pocket or hand-bag. They take in the parts 
of Europe usually visited by vacation tourists, and even for 
the traveler planning a long journey serve a desirable end by 
giving a bird’s-eye view of the whole ground to be covered, 
thus enabling him to arrange his trip with due regard to pro¬ 
portion, and to make a rough schedule of it in advance. 
Appleton’s three-volume guide covering the whole of Europe 
is tolerably accurate, and, if Baedekers are not bought, will 
be comprehensive enough for countries where the stay is 
short. Loomis’s “Index Guide to Travel and Art Study in 
Europe,” issued by Scribner's, contains a deal of solid infor¬ 
mation, but will hardly repay a vacation tourist for the bur¬ 
den of carrying it about, however useful it might be as a book 
of reference to one staying abroad for study; it is not a guide 
book in the ordinary sense of the term. 

In Europe are published six considerable series of guide 
books, dealing with countries or localities in separate vol¬ 
umes, and either written originally in English or translated 
into English wholly or to the extent of some volumes. Be¬ 
sides Baedeker’s are those of Murray, Black, Cook, Orell- 
Fussli and Woerl. 

Murray’s volumes have so long been the stand-by of the 
Briton that half the time he says “Murray” when he means 
“guide book.” There are about 30 of them for England and 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 


2 45 

its localities, as many more for the Continent, substantial 
volumes averaging about $2.35 in cost, accurate and copious, 
but to my mind not conveniently arranged for consultation. 

# Cook’s guides, issued by the tourist agency, are newer in 
the field, are less numerous and less costly, and not so elab¬ 
orate, the last a feature of merit or the opposite according to 
the needs of the individual tourist. Black, with his great list 
of more than 50 local British guides, has one of 20 for re¬ 
stricted districts of continental Europe, most of them ranging 
between 25 and 60 cents in price, and well worth the money 
of the man who wants thorough information on localities. 

The two German series are little local guides to cities or 
districts, and cost about ten cents each. The Woerl “hand¬ 
books” are published in Leipsic, and in the original German 
number more than 500 titles. About 20 of them are in Eng¬ 
lish. They are paper-covered pamphlets of about 50 pages 
each, and are excellent in their way, although they are but 
little known to Americans. The Orell-Fussli guides are 
larger in form, and about 200 parts have been issued in Eng¬ 
lish. 

More than 200 volumes in the nature of guide books re¬ 
late to England. Baedeker’s Great Britain covers England, 
Wales and Scotland, but not Ireland; and it gives but a 
dozen pages to London, abridging for them the volume that 
is devoted to London alone. The price of the Great Britain 
volume would warrant the publisher in putting into both 
books at least the matter relating to the environs of London. 
The traveler may be justifiably annoyed, for instance, to find 
a description of Stoke Poges or Hampton Court omitted 
from a volume entitled “Great Britain.” And thie book 
would be no thicker than the Switzerland volume if it in¬ 
cluded Ireland. However, as far as it goes, it is excellent. 

Murray has volumes on “London As It Is”; the Envi¬ 
rons of London; England and Wales; Scotland; Ireland; 
and a score of counties or groups of counties; with five hand¬ 
books of cathedrals. Cassell has issued a “Pictorial England 
and Wales,” Smith has written a “Handy Guidebook,” and 
Whiting has published an “Annual Holiday Directory.” For 
London especially there are Baedeker, Murray, Black, Cook 


246 


GOING ABROAD? 


and Cassell, to which may be added Murray’s publication, 
“London, Past and Present,” in three volumes, an exhaustive 
work for the library table. Then there is Dickens’s “Dic¬ 
tionary,” now in its twentieth year, the “London Hand-book” 
of the Grosvenor Press, Routledge’s “Diamond Guide,” 
Simpkins’s “London,” which come in a number of forms of 
from 14 to 19 years standing, and Ward’s “Guide to Lon¬ 
don,” now in its sixteenth year. Most of these are revised 
each year. For the benefit of pedestrians there are issued 
“Rustic Walking Routes,” by Evans, and “Walk from Lon¬ 
don to Fulham,” by Crocker. Chetwynd also has written an 
“Environs of London,” a guide for team or cycle. 

For the rest of Great Britain there are locality books too 
numerous to mention. In any town book-shop one may take 
his choice between several relating to the vicinity*. Then 
there are such books as Bradshaw’s Dictionary of Health 
Resorts; an Oarsman’s Guide to the Rivers and Canals of 
Great Britain and Ireland; Cowper’s Sailing Tours, for 
yachtsmen; a dozen handbooks for cyclists; the Spas of 
Wales; Rock-climbing in the English Lake District, etc. etc. 
For Ireland five of the larger firms have issued a guide book 
each; the French publisher, Balliere, has issued one, Flinn’s 
“Ireland,” and of more pretentious nature and to be highly 
recommended is Russell’s “Beauties and Antiquities of Ire¬ 
land.” 

Switzerland has a dozen or two of the Orell-Fussli 
guides, nearly as many of the Woerl series, and one each of 
the English publications. In addition there are: “The Eng¬ 
lish Red-Book for Switzerland,” issued by Paul; “Pictur¬ 
esque and Descriptive Guide,” by Ward, Lock & Co., and 
“How to Visit Switzerland,” by Lunn, who is a conductor of 
large excursions and has also written, “How to Visit Italy.” 

Visitors to Austria will find at their hand Singer and 
Wolfner’s “Handbook,” which includes Hungary and Buda¬ 
pest; and Malleson’s “Lakes and Rivers of Austria, Bavaria 
and Hungary,” which is a little more in detail than the Eng¬ 
lish publishers’ volumes. Norway has two guidebooks, Ben- 
net’s “Handbook,” and Goodman’s “Best Tour.” This coun¬ 
try is coming into prominence and has been the subject for 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 


247 


half a dozen descriptive volumes, among which may be noted 
Kea-ry’s compact little book on “Norway and the Norwe¬ 
gians,” and “New Ground in Norway,” published by Newnes. 
In the latter the author describes regions little known to us, 
but to which the Norwegians themselves have made their 
way in summer, much as we go to the White Mountains 
or to the seashore. Sweden has perhaps the strongest Tour¬ 
ists’ Club of any of the European countries. It has eight or 
ten thousand members, most of whom travel more or less, 
and with certain advantages. For the benefit of its members 
the Swedish Club issues at short intervals its ‘Kjuides,” which 
may be procured in German or in English. 

In all the other parts of Europe frequented by travelers 
one may find locality hand-books costing usually io or 20 
cents, which will effectively supplement the satchel guides 
for those who feel they cannot afford Baedekers, but don’t 
get along without the Baedekers if you can help it 

Then, too, there are the more costly volumes that are 
and are not guide-books, not designed to meet the more 
prosaic needs of the tourist, but meant to make his sight¬ 
seeing more intelligent and instructive. Some of them have 
genuine literary merit, such as the Hare volumes,—Walks 
in Paris, Walks in Rome, Cities of Southern Italy and Sicily, 
etc. As Mr. Ritchie well says, Rome seen without “Hare’s 
Walks” in hand is but half seen. Routledge prints the vol¬ 
umes with paper, type and margins that suit them to the 
library shelf rather than to the traveler’s satchel, and they are 
hardly worth attention on the spot from the man who can 
stay only a day or two, but I would urge them on anybody 
passing a week or more in any of the places they cover. 

Akin to these are such volumes as those of Mrs. Clement 
on Constantinople, Venice, Naples, all handsomely illus¬ 
trated; one of the same sort on Florence, by Virginia W. 
Johnson; on Rouen, by Theodore A. Cook; on Nuremburg, 
by Cecil Headlam; and other of the smaller cities of the Con¬ 
tinent. These can generally be found in the book-shops of 
the place to which they relate. Remember Ruskin’s Stones 
of Venice. Tourists who visit the chateau district south¬ 
west of Paris will enjoy “A Little Tour in France,” by 


248 


GOING ABROAD? 


Henry James. Those who desire to understand thoroughly 
the development of cities where they may tarry, will profit¬ 
ably study such books as Mrs. Oliphant’s “The Makers of 
Florence” and “The Makers of Venice.” In the same class, 
of books relating to the past rather than the present, are 
Grant Allen’s Historical Guides to Florence, Venice, Paris 
and the cities of Belgium. I think the last of the many vol¬ 
umes by this versatile writer to appear before his death, in 
1899, was “The European Tour,” designed particularly to be 
of service to Americans contemplating a journey abroad. 
It deals entirely with the educational aspect of the matter, 
telling what the author thought worth the seeing, and why. 
His verdict on Belgium differs radically from mine, given in 
an earlier chapter, for he says that “except Italy there is 
nothing in Europe so valuable, so instructive as Belgium. 
The reason is that Belgium in the North, like Italy in the 
South, formed the commercial and also therefore the artistic 
centre of mediaevalism.” Acumen of this sort will suggest 
how useful the book may be to anyone going to Europe 
with study of its art and history as the all important motive. 
Indeed, Mr. Allen started out by expressing the belief that a 
year of travel in Europe is worth more than a college educa¬ 
tion, and should be preferred were there choice between the 
two. Few will accept this dictum, but it need not prevent the 
book from inspiring and stimulating the desire to make the 
trip give more culture. 

The use of guide-books pure and simple is worth a mo¬ 
ment’s reflection, for otherwise they may prove great time- 
wasters. Voluminous guides like those of Baedeker some¬ 
times confuse and embarrass the novice in travel, not yet 
trained in deciding what he wants to see or should see. At 
the outset the conscientious man sallies forth each day with 
the intention of seeing everything the guide book mentions. 
Happy the hour when he frees himself from its thralldom! 
It is worse than useless to go through a museum or gallery 
as a merchant goes through his shop when he takes account 
of stock. That course inevitably wastes time on minor mat¬ 
ters, insignificant details; they cannot be remembered, and 
too often result in such a mental jumble that the really im- 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 


249 


portant things are lost from sight. That is the chief reason 
why my personal preference is against the use of catalogues 
in galleries. I would rather ramble along, enjoying what 
pleases me, than bore myself by learning that No. 49 was 
painted by an artist of whom I never heard and don’t want 
to hear. But each to his taste, and anybody who wants to be 
sure that he has seen So-and-So’s Madonna, or Somebody’s 
St. Sebastian, is welcome to indulge his fondness for facts. 

Tourists who rely on their own researches will find 
maps indispensable, especially in cities like Paris and Lon¬ 
don. The Baedekers contain so many of these that it will 
often prove cheaper to buy a Baedeker in the first place. 
Old or second-hand copies are just as good for the maps, and 
for most of the information; but they should not be implicitly 
trusted in regard to such matters as the hours when museums 
are open. Indeed, changes in these particulars are so fre¬ 
quent that no guide-book can keep up with them, and it will 
always be safer to verify by inquiry at the hotel. 

HISTORICAL AND PLACE NOVELS. 

It is both pleasant and profitable to read notable his¬ 
torical novels and novels of places in the cities or regions 
where their scenes are laid. Naturally of those written in 
English more relate to England than to any other country, 
and they are so many that it it is hard to make selection, 
particularly in the matter of London, which has been taken 
as the scene of hundreds of novels. Dickens, however, 
stands so far above all the rest as the great novelist of Lon¬ 
don that I shall mention no others, barring only Sir Walter 
Besant, some of whose books, notably “All Sorts and Con¬ 
ditions of Men,” tell of a London that has grown up since 
Dickens’ time. The cathedral towns have been favorites 
with many story tellers. Anthony Trollope’s Barchester se¬ 
ries will prove entertaining in any of them, and “The Silence 
of Dean Maitland” has much of its action laid in Winchester, 
though the scene of the tragedy unfolded in the opening 
chapters is supposed to have been not far from Newport on 
the Isle of Wight. Other stories that pertain to places along 
the Channel are Besant’s “By Celia’s Arbor,” Portsmouth, 


250 


GOING ABROAD? 


and “ ’T«was in Trafalgar’s Bay,” Lyme-Regis; Jane Austen’s 
“Persuasion,” also Lyme-Regis; Besant’s “Armorel of Lyon- 
nesse,” the Scilly Isles; Victor Hugo’s “The Toilers of the 
Sea,” Gilbert Parker's “Battle of the Strong,” and Hesba 
Stratton’s “The Doctor’s Dilemma,” Channel Islands. The 
sitories told by “Q.” (A. T. Quiller Couch), mostly relate to 
Cornwall. Blackmore wrote Devonshire stories, with 
“Lorna Doone” head and shoulders above the rest, but with 
“Springhaven” and “Perleycross” also good Devon tales. 
Mrs. Louisa Parr’s “Loyalty George” is another Devon 
story, and the opening chapters of Charles Kingsley’s inim¬ 
itable “Westward Ho” are laid in Biddeford. Thomas Hardy 
writes muc'h about the region anciently the kingdom of 
Wessex, most of the places and people he describes being of 
what is now known as Dorset, the country north and west of 
Southampton and Winchester. Going farther north one 
comes to Warwickshire and the region from Oxford to 
Derby, the scene of Scott’s “Kenilworth” and “Woodstock,” 
and George Eliot’s best novels. At Stratford William 
Black’s “Judith Shakespeare” will edify. Then comes Rugby, 
known to every boy because “Tom Brown” went to school 
there. The fen country about Cambridge was the locality of 
Kingsley’s “Hereward.” Charlotte Bronte’s “Shirley” is a 
Yorkshire tale. “Love and Quiet Life,” by Tom Cobteigh 
(Walter Raymond), tells of Somersetshire. Miss Mitford’s 
“Our Village” was in Berkshire. Mrs. Gaskell’s “Cranford” 
will do for any English village, and her “Mary Barton” con¬ 
cerned Manchester. Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett wrote 
“That Lass o’ Lowries ’’about Lancashire incidents. 

Scotland has furnished some of the most noted 'Story 
tellers and the scenes for many stirring novels. It is needless 
to enumerate those of the great Sir Walter, for everybody 
who reads novels knows that “The Heart of Midlothian” and 
the rest are Scotch tales. Then there is an old favorite with 
the boys, Jane Porter’s “Scottish Chiefs,” and the books by 
the newer generation of Scotch literary artists,—Stevenson 
(“Kidnapped” and “The Master of Ballantrae”), Barrie 
(“The Little Minister” and the other Thrum stories), 
Ian Maclaren, and Crockett, 'William Black’s best stories 


' SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 


251 


are of the Scottish highlands or islands. The Isle of Man 
has been laid bare to the world by Hall Caine. The great 
Irish novelists have been Charles Lever and Samuel Lover. 
Much about Wales and the Welsh is told in a recent novel 
that has met with favor, Dunton’s “Aylwin.” 

French novels have for the most part dealt more with the 
scum and froth of Parisian life than with France itself, its 
history or its regions. The more thoughtful Frenchmen deny 
that the ordinary French novel is a true portrayal of their 
countrymen or countrywomen. But a noteworthy exception 
was the work of Balzac, who undertook in a voluminous se¬ 
ries of stories under the general title of “The Human 
Comedy/’ to depict every class and type in the whole social 
scale of his time. The wonderful result makes many claim 
for him the rank of the foremost of the world’s novelists. 
For understanding the France of the period after Napoleon’s 
downfall, nothing could be better. Numerous translations 
have been made, and notably good are those of Miss Worme- 
ley. Paris, like London, abounds in stories, among them 
Dickens’ “Tale of Two Cities,” covering both places at the 
Terror epoch. Hugo’s “Hunchback of Notre Dame” should 
surely be read in Paris, and Du Maurier’s “Trilby” by any 
one staying in the Latin Quarter. The scene of Philip Gil¬ 
bert Hamerton’s “Mamorne” is laid in Burgundy, and the 
book gives some of the best descriptions of French country 
life to be found in English literature. Read Scott’s’“Quentin 
Durward” in Tours. Blanche Howard Willis’ “Gucnn” 
should be read in Brittany, and also, in the original, Loti’s 
“Pecheur d’lslande.” Students of French will find a fas¬ 
cinating story with scenes scattered over France, in “Sans 
Famille.” The Erckmann-Chatrain books have been trans¬ 
lated into English, and are among the best military stories 
of the century. 

Italy has furnished the motives and the scenes for much 
good fiction. The best Italian novel is Manzoni’s “The 
Betrothed,” which will be found easy reading by beginners 
in Italian, or can be had in translation; the incidents occur 
about the Italian Lakes and Milan. Two great writers have 
written up Italy in the story form, George Sand with “Con- 


GOING ABROAD? 


252 

suelo,” and Andersen with “The Improvisatore.” Rome 
past and present has been a prolific theme for the novelist. 
For a course of Roman novel reading one might begin with 
“The Gladiators,” and follow it up with “Quo Vadisr” Canon 
Farrar's “Darkness and Dawn,” William Ware’s “Zenobia,” 
“Julian,” and “Aurelian”; Bulwer Lytton’s “Rienzi,” Guer- 
razzi’s “Beatrice Cenci,” Hawthorne’s “Marble Faun,” Hen¬ 
derson’s “The Prelate,” M. A. Tincker’s books, and finish 
with Crawford’s Saracinesca series. At Naples read “The 
Last Days of Pompeii,” Marie Corelli's “Vendetta,” Mrs. 
Stowe’s “Agnes of Sorrento,” and Crawford’s “Adam John¬ 
stone’s Son,” all the action of the last named occurring at 
Amalfi. “Romola,” of course, is the great story for Flor¬ 
ence. Howells’ “A Foregone Conclusion” relates to Venice, 
Ruffini’s “Doctor Antonio” to the Riviera. 

Few novels of lasting reputation have been written about 
Germany,—at least that have become commonly known to 
the English reading public. Charles Reade’s best work, 
“The Cloister and the Hearth,” in part concerns Germany. 
Miss Muhlbach and the Baroness Tautphoeus have written 
German stories that do nobody any hurt. The best known 
novel by Mrs. Charles, “The Chronicles of the Schonberg- 
Cotta Family,” deals with Luther and the Reformation. 
Marlitt and Auerbach are other names to be looked up in 
library catalogues. 

Maarten Maartens is the first Dutch novelist to arouse 
the enthusiasm of the English reading public. Bjornson 
and Boyesen are the Scandinavian novelists known in Amer¬ 
ica, Tolstoi and Turgenieff the Russian. Spanish novels by 
Valdes have been translated by N. H. Dole. Fuller’s “Chat¬ 
elaine of La Trinite” and Harraden’s “Ships That Pass in 
the Night” are located in Switzerland. Tourists in Egypt 
may peruse with enjoyment Kingsley’s “Hypatia,” and for 
stories with a modern setting “Kismet,” by George Fleming 
(Julia C. Fletcher), and Adeline Sergeant’s “Beyond Recall” 
and “Christine.” 

It would not be worth while taking any of these from 
home. They can all be bought at the bookseller’s in the 
place to which they refer, or so nearly all that it would not 


SOMEWHAT LITERARY. 


253 

pay to make any provision against inability thus to buy 
them. On the Continent the Tauchnitz editions will be found 
everywhere,—good print, paper covers, and reasonable in 
price. Novels should be read on the spot, or soon after¬ 
ward; there is no advantage in reading them before going to 
the place, for unless the reader has an abnormal memory, 
few of them will remain in the mind without knowledge of 
localities at the time of reading. 

By the way, novels and most other books are customarily 
sold in paper covers on the Continent, because book buyers 
there generally prefer to have their binding done to order on 
such books as they find worth keeping. Consequently the 
price for binding to order is cheap. 

PREPARATORY READING. 

Some reading, however, can profitably be done before 
leaving home, and a winter’s preparatory work is none too 
much. Most helpful will be found such historical knowledge 
as can be acquired. Let it be personal history rather than 
political, constitutional, or military. Except Waterloo, the 
traveler sees few battle-fields, almost none that can greatly in¬ 
terest the imagination. With constitutions, governments, and 
politics he rarely comes in contact. But the pleasure of his 
excursions to Versailles and Fontainebleau will be heightened 
by knowing something about the kings and queens and 
nobles who once lived there; sleepy, monotonous Holland 
will become alive with interest if the story of William the 
Silent and his heroic friends is familiar; Napoleon’s magic 
name vivifies and glorifies a thousand places; the historical 
personages idealized by Sir Walter Soott must be known in 
order that the scenes of their romantic and chivalrous deeds 
can be enjoyed to the utmost; the Alhambra and the Alcazar 
fail of their true significance if the wonderful record of 
Moorish achievement in Spain has never been scanned: the 
Colosseum is but an artificial quarry, the Forum an ugly 
excavation, the Palatine a rubbish-strewn hill to the traveler 
who knows naught of the Caesars. 

Next in importance to the biographical sWe of general 
history, comes the history of art, in all its branches. Much 


254 


GOING ABROAD? 


the larger part of the sight-seeing hours are given to gal¬ 
leries, art museums, churches, public buildings that are them¬ 
selves of artistic value and significance, or contain art treas¬ 
ures. He errs who thinks that the eye unaided by the intel¬ 
lect can reveal all their beauties, and that understanding is 
not essential to the full enjoyment of art. A symphony or¬ 
chestra might delight even a savage; might charm the man 
who couldn’t tell the difference between a trombone and a 
piccolo; but surely it can be appreciated only by the student 
of music. 

I asked Charles H. Moore, Professor of Art in Harvard 
College and author of an authoritative treatise on the De¬ 
velopment and Character of Gothic Architecture, to prepare 
a list of books that be would advise for the preliminary read¬ 
ing of persons of ordinary culture planning a European tour. 
Professor Moore suggests the following: F. D. Tarbell’s 
‘'History of Greek Art,” published by Flood & Vincent, 
Meadville, Penn.; Reber’s “History of Mediaeval Art,” Har¬ 
per & Bros., New York; Russell Sturgis’ “European Archi¬ 
tecture,” the Macmillan Co., New York; Rose G. Kingsley’s 
“History of French Art,” Longmans, Green & Co., New 
York; C. E. Norton’s “Church Building in the Middle 
Ages,” Harper & Bros., New York; Longfellow’s “The Col¬ 
umn and the Arch,” Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York; 
Taine’s “Art in the Netherlands,” Leypoldt & Holt, New 
York. 

Be sure that nc hours will be wasted in learning how Art 
conquered the mediaeval Italian, wherein St. Mark’s differs 
from St. Paul’s, what were the lives of Raphael and of Michel 
A.ngelo; in acquiring the power to distinguish at a glance 
lonlic, Doric, and Corinthian columns, in mastering the de¬ 
tails of Romanesque, Byzantine or Gothic architecture, in 
finding out what the disciples of the impressionist school of 
painting are striving to effect. Be sure that the more you 
know on any topic when you leave home, the better estimate 
will you put on your ignorance when you return, and the 
keener ambition will you have for knowledge. In that di¬ 
rection lies one of the greatest benefits of travel,—it teaches 
a man how small he is, how much he has to learn. 


CHAPTER XI. 

MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 

Sundry information that has come to hand since the 
previous edition of this book was printed is given in this 
chapter for what it is worth. I do not vouch for its accuracy, 
but have reason to suppose it is trustworthy and at any rate 
incline to think it will be helpful. 

TRAMPING IN NORMANDY. 

(Alvan F. Sanborn in the Booklovers’ Magazine.) 

One tramps because he likes to tramp, not to save money. 
Nevertheless, in Normandy, and the same is true of nearly 
every other section of France except Savoy and the Cote 
d’Azur, one must make a distinct effort to spend, while 
tramping, more than seven francs a day, or $1.40. Nearly all 
the auberges and many of the smaller hotels give comfortable 
rooms for thirty cents a night—and no extra charges—the 
petit dejeuner for ten cents, and a prix fixe dejeuner and 
dinner for thirty cents each. It should be noted, however, that 
a distinction is sometimes made between the meals taken with 
the regular pensionnaires or the landlord’s family, and the 
formal table d’hote in a special dining-room, for which fifty 
to seventy cents may be charged. Drinks, with the exception 
of the aperitifs, which command Paris prices, and wine, which 
is scarce—are so cheap that there can be no serious financial 
objection to their liberal use as a confidence-winning appliance. 
All the spirits—rum, kirsch, cognac, marc and calvados—are 
two and three cents a glass. Beer, such as it is, costs six 
cents a bottle, and the boisson, one of the most refreshing 
summer drinks that is made, two and three cents a litre. The 
boisson, poetically called le vin blond, is universally drunk at 
table. It is prepared from the apple cheeses after the juice 
for the first quality cider has been expressed, and is often not 
to be distinguished from cider. Refined bottled cider costs 


GOING ABROAD? 


256 

ten cents a bottle, Coffee is poor and dear—the concoction 
served with a petite verre for five and six cents cannot proper¬ 
ly be denominated coffee—and tea, except as a medicine, is 
practically unknown. 

The parcels-post rates are twelve cents for packages 
not exceeding six pounds in weight, sixteen cents for packages 
of between six and ten pounds, and twenty-five cents for 
packages of between ten and twenty pounds,—regardless of 
direction or distance. 

With a little searching, particularly in the market towns, 
lodgings may be had for a franc a night—for less, if one does 
not insist on a room to himself—and meals in proportion. On 
grounds of picturesqueness, as well as those of economy, 
houses which advertise automobile supplies, and those which 
are affected by bicyclists, should be shunned. The restaur¬ 
ants and auberges bearing the sign “Loge a pied et a cheval” 
are, as a rule, the most desirable. The cheer is as good as 
elsewhere, the prices cheaper, and the company less sophisti¬ 
cated and more interesting. One who wishes to economize 
still further can be served in almost any debit a litre of boisson 
with unlimited bread and delicious Camembert cheese, or a 
slice of sausage, for six cents—at any hour of the day; or 
he may have a bowl of soup for a trifle, if he puts in his 
appearance at the proper moment. 

In a word, for the tramper in Normandy, seven francs 
($1.40) a day represents luxury; four to six, comfort; and three 
to four, the essential. To bring the average per day below 
three francs and keep moving, it is necessary to go to the 
length of buying provisions at the stores, and sleeping some¬ 
times in the open air and in granges, a method which is not 
without its special piquancy—as I know from experience, but 
which it would be hazardous, if not unpardonable, to recom¬ 
mend. 

Pension may be had—if one has learned how to look for 
it—in almost any Norman town except the sea-shore resorts, 
for seventy francs (#14) a month, and the hotels and auberges 
make a considerable reduction on their transient rates for 
boarders—facts of which the tramper, who has all summer 
before him and likes a period of complete repose now and 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


257 


than, may avail himself to advantage. Furnished rooms with 
appliances for cooking may be had at reasonable rates in 
certain districts, and are much in favor with Paris artists; but 
this arrangement presupposes a stay of at least a month in a 
single spot, and so will rarely serve the purpose of the tramper. 

r>eware of inspecting too closely a town in which you 
intend to lodge before seeking your lodging. You thus arouse 
suspicion in the minds of a few. Rumor flies fast and grows 
in flying. At the end of half an hour every man, woman and 
child of the community is aware of your presence, and knows 
you are a villain. In a market town where I made the mis¬ 
take of studying a map in the public view, I was refused 
peremptorily and rudely by all the auberges, six in number, 
and forced to repair to a village three miles farther on for 
a bed. Offering to pay in advance, which works to a charm 
in England, in Normandy only serves to arouse or increase 
suspicion. 

In pedestrianism the shoes make the man. For wear and 
comfort on the hard and smooth French roads there is nothing 
so good as heavy tan-leather hunting shoes with spiked soles; 
and nowhere are these shoes so good for the money as in the 
rural towns. 

The question of baggage is equally crucial in tramping 
with the question of shoes. Between shoes that hurt the feet 
and too heavy a pack the choice is so slight that it 
is not worth the making. A two or three days’ jaunt 
may be taken in fairly settled weather with no other impedi¬ 
menta lhan an extra pair of stockings stowed in a pocket, a 
toothbrush and a robust umbrella—which last is as precious 
for protection against the sun as against rain, and serves 
as a walking stick when the sky is gray. But for a longer 
jaunt, or a jaunt in unsettled weather, yon should be pro 
vided further with more stockings, an extra undershirt, a 
box of shoe grease, a pair of slippers—to rest the ftet—and 
a thick waistcoat, cardigan jacket, or sweater, to protect you 
from a sudden chill. 

The pedestrian need never be at a loss to know his exact 
whereabouts, as he frequently is in out-of-the-way districts in 
England. The maps in Joanne are unusually complete, and 


GOING ABROAD? 


258 

every hamlet, however small, has its name conspicuously 
posted. Signboards and mile-stones abound—large stones 
marking every thousand, and small ones every hundred metres. 

Except in traversing forests, where forsaking the beaten 
paths usually leads to discomfiture without compensation, let 
chance be your guide. Leave the laboriously reasoned pro¬ 
gramme, the cut and dried itinerary, and everything of the 
sort, to the overstrung tourists who can find delight in doing 
all France in a sennight, and all Europe in a month. Pin your 
faith to the bonne aventure. At the cross roads take the route 
that beckons, or abide by the the toss of a penny if all beckon 
alike. What matters it whether you find yourself at nightfall 
at Corneville or Jumieges, or at some venerable village mid¬ 
way between the two. Each has its peculiar allurement, and 
each can wait to be seen till another good day. The quaintest 
tavern interior, the most primitive people, and the nearest ap¬ 
proach to instantaneous cordiality I found in all Normandy was 
in a hamlet fifteen miles to one side of the point I had thought 
on setting out in the morning, to reach at night. I should thus 
have missed the most precious of sensations had I lacked the 
moral courage to flout the whisperings of prudence and quit 
the plausible path. 

Give way, then, to your suddenest impulse, your slightest 
whim, your craziest caprice, your drollest fancy. Be for a day, 
for a week, for a month, as your situation permits, irre¬ 
sponsible as the tuft of thistle-down in the toss of the summer 
breeze. Lie on your back in the shade of a beech and watch 
the clouds roll by, if the spirit moves you, or snooze with the 
lizards on the sunny side of a wall. Never quit a spot that 
pleases you because you think you ought to go see this or that 
—there is no such thing as obligation in tramping, no such 
word as duty in the vocabulary of the tramp—and never hesi¬ 
tate to retrace your steps if a locality hastily traversed leaves 
a poignant regret. 

Your object is not to make a given goal in a given time, 
else you would not be afoot; you would have resorted to the 
railroad, the bicycle, or the automobile. Your object is, first 
of all to be completely yourself, and secondly to see the real 
people. You can have no use for a Joanne or a Baedeker— 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


259 


arch enemies of spontaneity. There is no harm in your 
fingering bicycle maps and railroad charts, but it should be 
to the end of avoiding the routes they particularly recommend. 

Be on the lookout for local fetes, fairs, markets and con- 
cours of every description ; they bring the rustic waybacks 
out from their retreats as a lantern attracts the moths from 
the night. 

Knock at the doors of farmhouses and peasants’ cottages 
on the flimsiest pretexts; even though you are not permitted 
to enter, you will be vouchsafed ravishing glimpses of people 
and things. 

Cultivate the habitues of the road—beggars, tramps, gyp¬ 
sies, pedlers, tinkers, and unfortunate workingmen in quest 
of work. They rarely resent advances ; in fact, they are rather 
inclined to make them. They are the best of temporary 
comrades, and can tell you very many curious, useful, beauti¬ 
ful or wonderful things. A blacksmith’s helper whom I over¬ 
took on the road, tramped with for half a day, and treated to 
dinner, supplied me with minute information I could have got 
in no other way regarding the occupants of the farmhouses 
we passed—even to designating those who gave lodging and 
soup to such as he—and showed me in his wallet, addresses 
of cheap lodginghouses for a distance of nearly 150 miles. 

WINTERING IN ITALY. 

(Grace Ellery Channing.) 

“Is Italy cheap?” This is a question we have been asking 
ourselves for months, and marvelling at our own response, for 
we always decide she is, and yet, taking the facts separately, 
it does not seem that she has any right to be so. And cheap 
as she once was, even twelve years ago, she certainly no longer 
is. 

Cheap at all she does not appear to be at first glance. 
Every individual thing is as high or higher than in America. 
Rents are high, food is high. Meat and salt, flour and sugar 
bring what would be riot-prices at home; even fruit is not 
cheap in a land of fruit orchards except with very small ex¬ 
ceptions. Dry goods are as dear and not nearly so good as 
with us. Every nameable small convenience, from a flatiroa 


260 


GOING ABROAD? 


to an ice-cream freezer, has been imported, proudly boasts its 
American or English origin, and costs accordingly. Lamp oil, 
calling itself “petrolio Americano,” costs a hair-raising figure; 
fuel is expensive. But now for the paradox ; we pay more for 
our coffee, our bread, our milk—for every separate article we 
eat and we certainly eat as much,—yet it costs us less to eat 
than it did in America. We pay more for our stockings, our 
underwear, the fabric of our gowns—yet it costs us less to 
dress than it did there. In short, every item is less cheap, but 
the aggregate is cheaper—evidently a case where the parts 
are greater than the whole. 

How is this accounted for? It is accounted for in two 
ways—the one good, the other bad, but even the good de¬ 
pending somewhat upon the bad for its existence. Two things 
make life in Italy easy and cheap, for the individual of small 
means—the cheapness of labor, and the possibility of living 
“in small.” Milk and butter, as I have said, cost more than 
in America, but what firm there will deliver two cents worth of 
the one and three cents worth of the other each morning? 

Instead one must buy perhaps eight cents of the one and 
fifteen of the other, then waste two-thirds of both or become 
compulsory benefactor to some third party, with immediate 
loss here and now, and no compensating gain hereafter, com¬ 
pulsory benevolence not entering into the celestial account. 

In America we may get up our courage to order one 25- 
cent portion of soup for two, but in Italy it is the waiter who 
suggests tnat a four-cent portion is sufficient, and two portions 
extravagant, seeing that you eat “pochissimo.” The habit of 
dividing portions in Italy amounts to a positive institution—the 
Italians themselves subdivide them. I should not like to say 
how far I have seen a portion of “dolce” (sweets) made to go. 
Meanwhile in America we read on our bills of fare that “One 
portion ordered for iwo will be charged extra,” just as our 
dairies warn us, “No orders received or delivered under”— 
an amount to spoil the appetite. One would think we sup¬ 
ported a “Society for the Encouragement of National Ex¬ 
travagance.” 

Are you busy and want your stockings darned? Emilia 
will do it for two cents a pair. Or a skirt rebound ? She will 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


261 


effect it on the basis of the same tariff. Or a blouse washed or 
a dozen handkerchiefs ironed? For what else does she exist ? 
The Signor desires his suit pressed, his shoes mended in 
five minutes ? What other pleasure has Emilia in life than to 
trip to the tailor or the bootmaker ? 

Since we are on the perilous ground of clothes, we are 
near the pathetic ground of the sarta (dressmaker). You buy 
your material for a cotton waist, paying rather more than in 
America for a poorer article, or the silk for a gown, paying at 
least as much as in America; and then comes in the pathetic 
sarta and makes you up the one for 3 francs, instead of #3, 
and the other for 10 or 12 francs, instead of $15 to #25. And 
after growing rich once by this means, you grow rich a second 
time by virtue of the fact that in Italy it is not your clothes 
that assert your rank, but you who make any clothes respect¬ 
able by wearing them. 

This applies also to your dwelling, and explains why so 
many Americans can economize in Italy by living in “ultimo 
pianos,” who could not be got to climb above a second story 
in—Boston. They will tell you over there that they take 
extravagant rooms “on account of their friends.” This is 
strictly true; it is on account of their friends! In Italy it is 
“quaint” or “romantic” to live in garrets; in America it might 
cast suspicion on your bank account. This is one reason why 
it is not popular in America to live up ninety-eight steep steps 
with no “lift.” Let me make the socially timid the present of 
another and more producible one; if one had all the courage 
of the well-born and bred, and so surmounted those ninety- 
eight steps, one must needs go down them and up again when¬ 
ever it was a question of bread, butter, or a box of matches— 
and this is a reasonable deterrent to all but the young and 
gymnastic! In Italy legs exist only to run your errands 
(certain legs of certain servitors), hands but to save your own 
from time-destroying labor. And this luxury of service, possi¬ 
ble in America only to the very rich, becomes in Italy the 
riches of the poor student and worker, leaving him intact 
his capital of time and strength. Other luxuries there are, too, 
of a time saving nature, such as cabs, which for 16 cents here 
will render you the service of an American dollar “kerridge”; 


2 62 


GOING ABROAD? 


but one soon learns to look on these as extravagant, and trusts 
instead to the “bus,” which for two or three cents carries you 
round the earth and back again. 

TOURING IN SPAIN. 

(Correspondence of C. T. C. Gazette.) 

It is not every cyclist who will find happiness in Spain: 
the Sybarite would die there, and the man in a hurry 
would go mad. But the true traveler, who can enjoy taking 
things in the rough, will discover that it is the most fascinating 
country in Europe, and having once toured there will never 
wish to tour anywhere else. 

The duty charged upon cycles is not heavy—in English 
equivalents about 2d. per lb. Theoretically, this can be re¬ 
covered if you quit the country the same way that you entered 
it, but I should not like to hazard an estimate of the number of 
hours and cigarettes likely to be consumed in the process of 
negotiation. Personally I should jettison those five shillings. 

The best months for traveling are undoubtedly May and 
June, though one might go earlier to the southern provinces. 
The sun, of course, will be powerful by then, and as a rule no 
riding should be attempted in the middle of the day ; but 
earlier in the year there might still be snow in the passes, and 
the winds would be bitterly cold. Spain is in southern lati¬ 
tudes, it is true, but the central plateau is 2,000 feet above sea 
level, and the Spaniards themselves admit that winter is not 
done with till “the 40th of May.” 

The tourist must carry his own luggage and place no faith 
in parcels delivery. He must also be prepared to do his own 
repairs, and a few extra spokes and nuts and a spare inner 
tube will pay for their weight in peace of mind, since most 
accidents occur at a distance of 50 miles from the railway and 
200, at least, from the nearest competent repairer. 

The roads are better than any one has any right to expect, 
considering the very limited amount of traffic they have to 
provide for. The main roads or “carreteras” are always well 
laid out, and I remember but one hill that can fairly be de¬ 
scribed as dangerous, though, of course, there are many in the 
mountain districts which require caution and a good brake. 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


263 

Of the surface it is impossible to predicate anything for 
certain; it is mostly limestone, very greasy in wet weather, and 
(which is more usual) very loose in dry. Sometimes it is very 
good, sometimes barely rideable, and roads which had been 
abominable one year I have found capital the next. All are 
liable to go to pieces under the traffic near big towns, but you 
may ride on the footpath—if there is one. 

The roads are “national” everywhere except in the Basque 
provinces, where the cyclist occasionally finds himself mulcted 
in a penny toll. In Andalusia, I am told, they are worse than 
in the north, and certainly the Cadiz road from Madrid to 
Aranjuez bore out this statement, but southward of Merida 
things looked more promising. 

By-roads there are none. Their place is taken by unmet¬ 
alled cart tracks or stony mule paths. These are only practi¬ 
cable to the cycle in a laborious and cross-country fashion, and 
I can endorse the opinion once offered me by a sympathetic 
bandit that (where available) the railway track is better! 

There is little traffic on the roads, but horses and mules 
are shy of the cycle and should be passed with care. The 
dogs are an abominable nuisance—many degrees worse than 
the worst kind of Continental dog yet discovered—and anyone 
who can suggest a really efficient weapon against them (no 
matter how inhuman) will earn eternal gratitude. 

The “fondas” or inns in the larger towns are of much the 
same type as in the less fashionable districts of France and 
Germany. But even if constrained to seek shelter for the 
night in one of the villages, the tourist need not despair; the 
little “parador” may be a mere hovel, and the food will be of 
Spartan simplicity, but he will find hospitality and a clean bed. 

The Spanish peasant should be treated as an equal. He 
has been poor for generations—that is his misfortune—but he 
is as good a gentleman as ever, and probably fully entitled to 
the coat of arms carved over his door. He knows his roads 
well and is most accurate in his estimates of distance, though, 
with true conservatism, he reckons in “leagues” (of about 3 1-2 
miles), not in the new-fangled official kilometres. In the same 
way he calculates money by the “real,” a coin now no longer 
struck, but equal to one-fourth of a peseta. 


264 


GOING ABROAD? 


Spanish is the only language of any use to the tourist, but 
very little Spanish will serve, and if he avoids offending native 
susceptibilities he will find his path quite smooth. For myself 
I have never experienced overcharges or discourtesy. 

TAXOMETER ON PARISIAN CABS. 

(Thornwell Haynes, Consul, Rouen, France, August 25, 1904.) 

The taxometer, a new instrument resembling a big alarm 
clock, was yesterday affixed to Parisian cabs to determine the 
distance and the amount of fare. It seems unjust to pay for a 
trip of a hundred yards the same as for one of several miles, 
and the aim of the taxometer is to make the charge equitable. 

The instrument is surmounted by a small metallic flag 
carrying the word “free,” which is horizontal or vertical, ac¬ 
cording as the cab is occupied or unoccupied. When one gets 
into a cab now the driver immediately lowers the flag to a 
horizontal position and the taxometer begins to work. At the 
beginning it is set 75 centimes (14.475 cents), which remains 
unchanged for 1,300 yards, after which 10 centimes (1.93 cents) 
are added every 430 yards. Below the large dial is a supple¬ 
mentary dial marking 25 centimes (4.825 cents) for packages. 
After the passenger pays, the driver raises his flag, which 
effaces all the figures. 

Should the passenger desire to stop several times, the 
charge is by time and distance. As soon as the cab stops, the 
coachman turns a hand which sets in motion the mechanism 
which marks by time, 10 centimes (1.93 cents) for three 
minutes. If one wishes to go very slowly—less than 5 miles 
an hour—the tariff is marked by time. As soon as the speed 
becomes greater than 5 miles the mechanism adjusts itself 
automatically and records by distance. 

This instrument, or something similar, is used in other 
Urge continental cities, and leaves no possibility for disputes 
between the passenger and the coachman as to fare. 

DAMAGE CLAIMS BY HOTEL KEEPERS. 

(United States Consul-General Guenther, Frankfort, Ger¬ 
many.) 

German papers report a decision of the supreme court at 
Berlin as one of very great importance. 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


265 


The question involved was whether a hotel keeper is en¬ 
titled to damages from the heirs of a guest, who after a stay 
of several days at the hotel dies there of heart failure, and 
whose death necessitated a renovation and consequently a 
temporary non rental of the room he had occupied.,, 

The hotel keeper claimed pay for the expenses of renova 
tion and disinfection of the room and the loss of rental of 
the same for ten days. As the hotel was one of the first class, 
the sum asked was considerable. The supreme court dis¬ 
missed the suit on the ground that “the tenant of a room is 
only responsible for damages if they were caused by his own 
fault or that of his people. The death of the hotel guest is a 
risk involved in keeping a hotel which the hotel keeper alone 
has to bear, and which he cannot transfer to the heirs of the 
deceased. The case, of course, would be different if the guest 
had ended his life by suicide or had concealed from the hotel 
keeper a severe ailment which resulted in death.” 

In view of the fact that thousands of Americans annually 
stop at German hotels this decision may be of interest *0 them. 

COMMERCIAL TRAVELERS. 

(United States Consul Mowrer, Ghent, Belgium.) 
Various ways and means are employed by American manu¬ 
facturers to secure foreign markets for their goods and extend 
their export trade. In this district (Ghent) they seek to extend 
their trade solely by means of correspondence and the sending 
of catalogues, the latter usually printed in English, which 
defeats their pu pose, Flemish and French being the language 
of this people. The exhibition of American goods, wares, and 
products has never been tried, and American traveling sales¬ 
men have not entered into competition with those from 
Germany, France, and England : yet sooner or later Americans 
who wish to sell abroad must adopt this latter means. Here in 
Belgium it is said “the commercial traveler is a preponderant 
element of the commercial prosperity of a people.” The t vo 
principal qualifications of a salesman may be said to be (1) an 
expert knowledge of the goods he wishes to sell, and (2) a com¬ 
petent knowledge of the language of the country. 

There are formalities to be complied with, peculiar to the 


266 


GOING ABROAD ? 


different countries, which have recently been made the sub¬ 
ject ot a Belgian report. These requirements are licenses to 
sell goods, duty on samples carried by the salesman, and certi¬ 
ficates of recognition. While in Germany, Austria-Hungary, 
France, Italy, England, and Switzerland (except for the sale of 
certain articles in the last two mentioned countries) a license is 
not required, it amounts to 15 florins ($6.03) in Holland, 160 
crowns (#42.88) in Denmark, and 322 rubles (#165.83) in Russia, 
per annum, and 100 crowns (#26.80) in Norway and Sweden for 
thirty days. Norway and Sweden demand a vise of the license 
by the police authorities of each locality, and Denmark the 
vise of the license by the customs and police authorities. In 
lieu of licenses in Germany, France, Austria, and Switzerland 
certificates of recognition are required, one issued by the coun¬ 
try for which the commercial traveler sells goods and another 
by the country in which he sells the goo*ds. In Russia, the sit¬ 
uation is more complicated, licenses, certificates of recognition, 
passports, and legalized industrial certificates being required. 

For transportation of samples there are other formalities. 
In England, Austria Hungary, France, and Russia they are 
free of duty when certain customs formalities are fulfilled or on 
the deposit of a bond. In Italy and Holland they are also 
entered free of duty when they have no value of themselves. 
In Norway and Sweden ordinary duties are paid, but these are 
refunded when the goods leave the country. In Denmark the 
formalities are complicated. 

RAILWAY TICKETS. 

(United States Consul Liefield, Freiburg.) 

As is probably known, the railroads of Prussia and 
Saxony carry four classes of passengers, and those of southern 
Germany (and Europe generally) three classes. The rate 
of travel in the several classes is approximately 8, 6, 4, and 2 
pfennings per kilometre, a pfenning being about one fourth of 
a cent and a kilometre approximately two-thirds of a mile. 
The slow trains carry all classes of passengers, while the 
express trains carry only the first and second—sometimes the 
third. As traveling on a fast train is considered a luxury, an 
extra ticket or Zuschlag, must be purchased for that privilege. 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


267 

In general, tickets are valid on the day of purchase only; 
but excursion tickets good for three or ten days — the limit 
depending on the distance — can be obtained at all times at any 
station and the ticket will be stamped ‘zuruck,’ which means 
‘return.’ The price of such round trip is always the price of 
the ticket for one way in the next higher class — i. e., a ticket 
good for second class one way is valid for third class going and 
returning, one good for first class one way is good for second 
class both ways; but around trip first class costs usually the 
price of first and third one way. 

The above remarks pertain to travel in general, but there 
are certain special arrangements which can be taken advantage 
of and which acccordingly deserve mention: 

In Wurttemberg, it is possible to purchase a ticket or 
pass for the railroads of that kingdom only, valid for fifteen 
days, the prices being respectively 45, 30, and 20 marks ($10.71, 
$7.14, and $476). This would enable a traveler to travel as he 
pleases anywhere within the limits of the Kingdom and stop at 
any station as long as he pleases, all depending on the time of 
expiration of the ticket. 

For many years Baden has been considered a model state 
in Germany on account of its enterprise and generally pro¬ 
gressive spirit. This is seen especially in the railroads, which 
are equal if not superior to any in Germany. Some years ago, 
Baden introduced a system of mileage books, which is very 
popular among all classes of people. These books, called 
Kilometerhefte, are sold for $14.25, $9.52, and $5.95, respective¬ 
ly for the three classes, good for members of a family or firm 
for one year from date of issue, and good for 621.37 miles on 
the state roads of Baden and for express trains, without extra 
fare. While 1,000 kilometers may seem a long distance, and 
hence the purchase of a kilometer book may seem inadvisable, 
such is not the case, as can readily be learned by studying the 
distances stated in the time taole — for instance the distance 
from Heidelberg to Basel is 156.5 miles and from Basel to 
Constance 90 miles, from which it immediately becomes evi¬ 
dent that one kilometer book would not suffice for a party of 
three even when traveling one way only from Heidelberg or 
Mannheim to Constance by way of Basel. The cost for a trip 


268 


GOING ABROAD? 

of 1,000 kilometers in Baden on the express trains, purchasing 
tickets as you go, is $ 21 . 65 , $ r 5- 2 3 an d $ I o-7i, respectively. 
These books can be obtained at a moment’s notice at any 
station ; no photograph is required—simply the signature—and 
23.8 cents will be given if the book is finally returned at any 
station. 

A general round trip to suit the wishes of the individual 
traveler, who may plan for an extended journey greater than 
373 miles, can be arranged for by applying at any railroad 
office a few days before the start is to be made. A blank form 
indicating the various lines and distances intended to be pat¬ 
ronized is filled out, and a special little ticket book, called 
Fahrscheinheft, is issued to meet the demands of the case. 
The cost will be found to be reduced by from 10 to 20 per 
cent., and the limit of the ticket is forty five days if the dis¬ 
tance to be traveled is from 600 to 2,000 kilometres, and if more 
than 2,000 kilometres sixty days. This form of ticket can be 
obtained for a round trip, not only including the states of 
Germany, but also Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, Scandina¬ 
via and other countries of Europe. 

CHEAP TRAVEL IN SWITZERLAND. 

(United States Consul Washington, Geneva, Switzerland,) 

Reference has been made in the annual commercial reports 
from this consular district to the very inexpensive tickets 
that permit the holder to travel throughout Switzerland upon 
most of its railways and lake steamers at will for periods from 
fifteen to thirty days. This information was submitted for the 
benefit of our exporters desirous of introducing their goods 
throughout the country. 

It seems, however, that the information would be of value 
to the thousands of citizens of the United States who yearly 
travel extensively through the country and who could, by 
availing themselves of the opportunity thus offered, effect a 
considerable saving or, perhaps, see much more of Switzerland 
at a cost equal to or less than that of the restricted tour 
previously planned. 

These tickets are obtainable at all large railway and boat 
stations in Switzerland. They may be ordered through any 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 269 

station, however. A del y from one to two days is usual and 
a photograph, size known as “carte de visite,” is required. 

The tickets permit continuous and unlimited travel at will 
during the period of their validity upon most of the railways 
and lakes in Switzerland; and upon some fifteen of the small 
roads not embraced in the ticket privilege (usually funicular 
roads) a reduction from 20 to 50 per cent, upon usual fares 
is extended. 

The rates of fare are: 


limit 

First 

class 

Second 

class 

Third 

class 

For 15 days. 

$14.50 

22.19 

$10.61 

15.55 

$7.72 

11.58 

For 30 days. . 



Upon these rates 96.5 cents is reimbursed at the end of the 
period. Longer periods of travel — three, six, and twelve 
months — are also provided for. 

No luggage is transported free on Swiss railroads. 

It is a useful point of information for travelers that trunks 
may be sent by post throughout the country and thus may 
be delivered at hotels to wait the arrival of owners. This is a 
practical plan for medium sized and small trunks and valises. 
The trunks must be sent to the post-office but are delivered on 
their arrival. 

ON ENGLISH RAILWAYS. 

The charge for a sleeping-car berth is five shillings —a 
dollar and a quarter — in addition to the ordinary first-class 
fare; certainly not exorbitant for a bedroom for the night. 
Should you be traveling for so short a distance as to make a 
bed not worth while, you can always hire, at any station of 
importance, a beaut’fully clean linen pillow and a thick rug. 
A porter brings these along the train, and they cost you six¬ 
pence— twelve cents! — for the night. With their aid, a very 
comfortable rest may be had in the ordinary compartment, 
where one can lie at full length on the cushioned seat; there 
are rarely many night passengers, the trains are numerous 
and provide many seats, thanks to the keen competition of the 
different routes that can generally be taken to any given place. 














27 o 


GOING ABROAD? 


One feature of traveling in Great Britain would not be 
accepted by travelers in America. Passengers are permitted 
to occupy seats in the dining car from the beginning to the 
end of the journey; the dining car is divided into compart¬ 
ments, some of which are for third class passengers, who pay 
a smaller price for meals than those traveling first class. On 
a fast train from London to Liverpool, there were three dining 
cars and only two first class Liverpool compartments (with a 
capacity of four passengers each) on the whole train. 

The “corridor car” is now in general use on all through 
trains on first class roads in England. Compartments of two 
and sometimes three classes open on the same passage, or 
corridor, so that the only difference between them Is in the 
quality of the upholstering — and the company one finds. The 
latter consideration is the strongest in determining one to 
travel first or second class. 

The corridor in an English or continental train is a narrow 
passageway running along one side of the coach. There are 
vestibules connecting the coaches, so that one may walk from 
one end of the train to the other, provided that in making up 
the train they have not put a luggage van in the middle. This 
is not infrequently the case, and when it occurs, if you have to 
go through the train to reach the dining car, the guard or 
the dining attendant unlocks and opens the doors, and you 
thread your way between the piles of trunks. 

SHOPPING PECULIARITIES. 

To walk contentedly and undisturbed through London 
shops looking here and there, as one can in New York or 
Boston, is an impossibility; when one wishes to buy there is no 
interest manifested by the clerk in showing any selection. To 
make an immediate sale and to dispose of the customer seems 
of chiefest moment. 

In Norway and Sweden the reserve and coldness so char¬ 
acteristic of the English is not found at all; the shop maidens 
are very anxious to sell; most of them study English a little in 
the long winter months, and they try to explain how their 
woods are carved and where they are made. When a package 
or a little change is handed one, tb^ maiden lo^k > at. you shyly 


MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 


271 


and kindly and says with a very quaint accent: “If you 
please, thank you.” ^ 

In the stores in Germany one finds more of the English 
reserve and an almost petulant mood if after being shown any 
goods one fails to make a purchase. In Switzerland articles 
are readily shown and prices cheerfully given. “Adieu,” they 
say, when you leave the shop, and “adieu” you pleasantly reply. 

In all the large shops of all countries frequented by 
travelers are to be found attendants who can speak more or 
less English, and it is equally true that every word an Ameri¬ 
can knows of French or German or Italian is a great help in 
making purchases. Avoid any small shop where a sign an¬ 
nounces that English is spoken. That means a high price, 
and often no language help at all, for you may ask in vain for 
an English speaking employee, only to find after you have 
paid your money that the very attendant who has made you 
talk in his tongue could have understood you perfectly in your 
own language. 

If you ask in a London hotel to be recommended to a 
tailor or tradesman, you may be reasonably sure he will give 
the hotel a commission. There is the chance of it in Paris 
and other large cities. Perhaps your purchases will cost you 
just as much, but knowledge of the commission custom may 
set you on your guard. There is, however, the satisfaction 
that in the office of a good hotel you are likely to be recom¬ 
mended to trustworthy persons. 

RANDOM NOTES. 

Museums, galleries and palaces are usually open one day, 
at least, in each week, free of charge. To arrange for a visit 
on this day will in the aggregate save a tidy sum in entrance . 
fees. 

‘ To accept an invitation in England to shoot on a large 
estate or to fish on preserved water may be an expensive 
pleasure. The fees to the shooters and game-keepers may 
make a ten-pound note disappear. 

Temperance hotels are increasing in number in London 
and there are now a score or more well spoken of, mostly in 
the Bloomsbury neighborhood. The usual expense of those 


272 


GOING ABROAD? 


charging by the day runs from $2.50 to $ 3 , for room, attendance, 
meat breakfast, luncheon and dinner; others charge by the 
meal and by the night. 

On railway trains there are certain laws regulating the 
opening of windows. If any passenger objects, the windows 
may not be opened at both ends of the compartment; and, if 
any passenger so wishes it, the window must be opened at 
one end. It is also well to remember that placing a bag or 
garment on a seat is to reserve it. 

Consul McGinley reported from Athens, October 20, 1900: 
“The Greek health authorities require that all trunks, packages, 
etc., the personal baggage of travelers, when unaccompanied 
by their owners, must, on arrival at any port in Greece, be 
accompanied by a certificate of origin or a certificate from the 
health authorities of the port from which the baggage was 
shipped to Greece. As ignorance of the foregoing rule has 
caused many American travelers delay and trouble in regaining 
possession of such baggage, and as thousands of Americans 
annually visit Athens and other parts of Greece, this informa¬ 
tion should be published widely, in order that they may come 
prepared with the necessary certificates to release their bag' 
gage without delay.” 

The climate of Denmark is sunny, but cool, during the 
summer months. Railway traveling is cheap, and one may 
journey all over the country by means of a fortnightly ticket 
which costs only 30s. A by no means unimportant considera¬ 
tion is the fact that the English language is generally under¬ 
stood all over the country, partly because English has been for 
many years a compulsory subject in the higher and lower 
schools alike. In this respect, therefore, Denmark must be 
accounted unique, and there is the further inducement that the 
Danish Tourist Society, 7, Ny Ostergarde, Copenhagen, ex¬ 
presses itself as willing to give every English tourist detailed 
and free information concerning tours, short or long, or 
visits to the model farms and dairies, and will answer aU 
inquiries by return of post. 


APPENDIX 


WHERE TO FIND FAMOUS WORKS OF ART. 

The following lists of famous works of art abroad make no 
pretence of being complete, but may be of use for reference:— 

STATUES. 

Dying Gladiator, Capitoline, Rome. 

Marble Faun. Capitoline, Rome. 

Laocoon, Vatican. Rome. 

Apollo Belvidere, Vatican, Rome. 

Venus de Medici, Uffizzi, Florence. 

The Grinder, Uffizzi, Florence. 

Venus de Milo, Louvre, Paris. 

Farnese Bull, Museum, Naples. 

Barberini Faun, Glyptothek, Munich. 

Venus Callipyge, Museum, Naples. 

Venus of the Capitol, Capitoline, Rome. 

Venus of Capua, Museum, Naples. 

Venus of Knidos, Vatican, Rome. 

Venus of the Hermitage, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 

Belvidere Mercury, Vatican, Rome. 

Elgin Marbles, British Museum, London. 

Group of Niobe. Uffizzi, Florence. 

Michel Angelo s Moses, S. Pietro in Vincoli, Rome. 

Michel Angelo’s Pieta, St. Peter’s, Rome. 

Michel Angelo’s David, Academy, Florence. 

Michel Angelo’s Day and Night, S. Lorenzo, Florence. 

Michel Angelo’s John the Baptist, Museum, Berlin. 

Cellini’s Perseus, Loggia, Florence. 

Donatello’s David, Bargello, Florence. 

Canova’s Pauline Borghese, Borghese Villa, Rome. 

.Canova’s Theseus, Vienna. 

Canova’s Venus, Pittl, Florence. 

Thorwaldsen’s Lion, Lucerne. 

PAINTINGS. 

Raphael’s Madonna del Foligno, Vatican, Rome. 

Raphael’s Madonna del Cardinello, Uffizzi, Florence. 


273 


274 


GOING ABROAD? 


Raphael’s Madonna del Granduca, Pitti, Florence. 

Raphael’s Madonna della Sedia, Pitti, Florence. 

Raphael’s Madonna Conigiaui, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Raphael’s Madonna di Tempi, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Raphael’s Sistine Madonna, Gallery, Dresden. 

Raphael’s Madonna—La Belle Jardiniere, Louvre, Paris. 
Raphael’s Madonna al Verde, Vienna. 

Raphael’s Frescoes, Vatican, Rome. 

Raphael’s Transfiguration, Vatican, Rome. 

Raphael’s Galatea, Villa Farnesina. Rome. 

Raphael’s Pope Julius II., Pitti, Florence. 

Raphael’s Virgin of the House of Alba, Hermitage, St. 
Petersburg. 

Raphael’s Madonna del Duea di Terranuova, Museum, Berlin. 
Raphael’s St. Catherine, National Gallery, London. 

Titian’s Assumption, Academy, Venice. 

Titian’s Presentation. Academy, Venice. 

Titian’s Madonna of the Pesaro Family, Frari, Venice. 

Titian’s Venus of Urbino, Uffizzi, Florence. 

Titian’s Flora, Uftizzi, Florence. 

Titian's La Bella, Pitti, Florence. 

Titian’s Artless and Sated Love, Borghese, Rome. 

Titian’s Entombment, Louvre, Paris. 

Titian’s Venus del Pardo, Louvre, Paris. 

Titian’s Christ Crowned with Thorns, Louvre, Parib. 

Titian’s Disciples at Emrnaus, Louvre, Paris. 

Titian’s Tribute Money, Gallery, Dresden. 

Titian’s St. Sebastian, Vatican, Rome. 

Correggio’s Betrothal of St. Catherine, Louvre, Paris. 
Correggio’s La Zingarella, Museum, Naples. 

Correggio’s Ecce Homo, National Gallery, London. 

Correggio’s Holy Family, National Gallery, London. 

Correggio’s Leda, Museum, Berlin. 

Correggio’s La Notte, Gallery, Dresden. 

Correggio’s Magdalen, Gallery, Dresden. 

Correggio’s Madonna Enthroned, Gallery, Dresden. 

Correggio’s Antiope and Jupiter, Louvre, Paris. 

Rubens’ Raising of Lazarus, Museum, Berlin. 

Rubens’ Judgment of Paris, National Gallery, London. 

Rubens’ Rape of the Sabines, National Gallery, London. 
Rubens’ Crucifixion, Museum, Antwerp. 

Rubens’ Adoration of the Magi, Museum, Antwerp. 

Rubens’ Holy Family, Museum, Antwerp. 

Rubens’ Last Judgment, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Rubens’ Battle of the Amazons, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Murillo’s Immaculate Conception, Louvre, Paris. 

Murillo’s Angel de la Guarda, Cathedral, Seville. 

Murillo’s St. Elizabeth of Hungary, Academy, Madrid. 
Murillo’s Holy Family, National Gallery, London. 


APPENDIX. 


275 


Murillo’s Repose in Egypt, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 
Murillo’s Assumption of the Virgin, Hermitage, St. Petersburg 
Murillo’s St. Anthony, Museum, Berlin. 

Murillo’s Boys Playing Dice, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Rembrandt’s Holy Family, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 
Rembrandt’s Anotomieal Lecture, Gallery, The Hague. 
Rembrandt’s Night Watch, Rijks Museum, Amsterdam. 
Rembrandt’s Woman Taken in Adultery, National Gallery, 
London. 

Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 
Rembrandt’s Supper at Emmaus, Louvre, Paris. 

Da Vinci’s Last Supper, Milan. 

Da Vinci’s Madonna and Child, Louvre, Paris. 

Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Louvre, Paris. 

Da Vinci’s Holy Family, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 

Da Vinci’s La Madonna Litta, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 
Veronese’s Jesus, Academy, Venice. 

Veronese’s Marriage at Cana, Louvre, Paris. 

Veronese’s Family of Darius, National Gallery, London. 
Giotto’s Burial, S. Croce, Florence. 

Giotto’s Frescoes, Annunziata, Padua. 

Giotto’s St. Francis, Louvre. Paris. 

Del Sarto’s Frescoes, Annunziata, Florence. 

Dei Sarto’s Sacrifice of Abraham, Gallery, Dresden. 

Del Sarto’s Madonna, Uffizzi. Florence. 

Fra Angelico’s Angels, TJttizzi, Florence. 

Fra Angelico’s Coronation, Louvre, Paris. 

Fra Angelico’s Frescoes, S. Marco, Florence. 

Fra Angelico’s Last Judgment, Museum, Berlin. 

Del Piombo’s Raising of Lazarus, National Gallery, London. 
Del Piombo’s Andrea Doria, Doria, Rome. 

Paul Potter’s Bull, Gallery, The Hague. 

Faul Potter’s Farmyard, Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 

Dow’s Young Housekeeper, Gallery, The Hague. 

Dow’s Dropsical Woman, Louvre, Paris. 

Claude’s Triumph of Apollo, Doria, Rome. 

Claude’s Seaport, National Gallery, London. 

Van Dyck’s Dead Saviour, Museum, Antwerp. 

Van Dyck’s Pieta, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Van Dyck’s Emperor Charles V., Uffizzi, Florence. 

Van Dyck’s Burgomaster and Wife, Pinakothek, Munich. 

»Guido Reni’s Aurora, Rospigliosi, Rome. 

Guido Reni’s Beatrice Cenei, Rarberini, Rome. 

Guido Reni's St. Michael and the Dragon, Capuchins, Rome. 
Guido Reni’s Ecce Homo, Corsini, Rome. 

Michel Angelo’s Last Judgment, Sistine Chapel, Rome. 
Domenichino’s Last Communion of St. Jerome, Vatican, Rome. 
Domenichino’s Cuinean Sibyl, Borghese, Rome. 

Domenichiuo’s St, Cecilia, Louvre, Paris, 


276 


GOING ABROAD? 


Palma Vecchio’s Daughter, Museum, Berlin. 

Palma Vecchio’s Venus, Gallery, Dresden. 

Palma Vecchio’s Peter and Saints, Academy, Venice. 

Bellini’s Pieta, Museum, Antwerp. 

Bellini’s Madonna, Academy, Venice. 

Quentin Matsys’ Pieta, Museum, Antwerp. 

Velasquez’ Pope Innocent X., Doria, Rome. 

Myth of Psyche, Villa Farnesina, Rome. 

Giorgione’s The Concert, Pitti, Florence. 

Ary Scheffer’s Monica and Augustine, S. Elmo, Seville. 
Campana’s Deposition from the Cross, Cathedral, Seville. 
Tintoretto’s Works, Doge’s Palace, Venice. 

Perugino’s Virgin and Child, National Gallery, London. 
Perugino’s Resurrection, Vatican, Rome. 

Van du Heist’s Banquet of the Arquebusiers, Museum, Am¬ 
sterdam. 

Durer’s SS Paul and Mark, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Fra Lippi’s Annunciation, Pinakothek, Munich. 

Da Volterra's Descent from the Cross, S. Trinita del Monte, 
Rome. 

Holbein’s Portrait of Gisze, Museum, Berlin. 

Holbein’s Meyer Madonna, Gallery, Dresden. 

Mantegna’s Cartoons, Triumph of Caesar, Hampton Court. 
Mantegna’s Madonna of Victory, Louvre, Paris. 

Fra Bartolommeo’s Marriage of St. Catharine, Louvre, Paris. 
Carlo Dolci’s St. Cecilia, Gallery, Dresden. 

Carlo Dolci’s Daughter of Herodias, Gallery, Dresden. 

Salvator Rosa’s Conspiracy of Catiline, Pitti, Florence. 


SUMMARY OF EXPENSES. 

From the data scattered through this book, it is possible to 
estimate roughly the ordinary travel expenses of three-quarters of 
the Americans who go abroad for a few months, leaving out of ac¬ 
count one-eighth who travel luxuriously and one-eighth who travel 
penuriously. 

OCEAN PASSAGE: Take for the minimum $40 for a first 
cabin berth in a slow steamer at winter rates; $150 for a good 
herth (by no means the costliest) in a fast steamer at summer 
rates. Assume that the discount on a round-trip ticket will pay 
steamer fees, war revenue tax, and boat sundries. 

RAILWAY FARES: United Kingdom, average per mile, 1st 
class, 4 cts.; 2 d class, 2 1-2 cts.; 3 d class, 2 cts. Continent, 1st 
class, 3 .G cts.; 2 d class, 2.0 cts.; 3 d class, 1.9 cts. 

HOTELS:—Assume that occasional use of pensions or lodgings 
will offset occasional use of costly hotels. Take for the maximum 
Cook hotel coupons, for the minimum cyclist club rates, adding 



APPENDIX. 


2 77 

20 per cent, to each for fees:-United Kingdom, $1.66 to $3.30 a 
day; Continent, $1.50 to $2.75 a day. 

LAUNDRY: 5 to 10 cts. a day. 

CABS, TRAMS, BUSES AND BOAT FARES: 20 to 60 eta. 
a day. 

ADMISSIONS AND GUIDES: 10 to 50 cts. a day. 
MISCELLANEOUS: 10 to 50 cts. a day. 

No estimate for drinks, tobacco, theatre, books, etc. 

For illustration, figure out the cost of a ten weeks’ trip over 
a common route,—Liverpool, Edinburgh, London, Belgium, Hol¬ 
land, Rhine, Switzerland, Venice, Florence, Riviera, Paris, London, 
Oxford. Liverpool,—New York to New York; allow 16 days on the 
ocean and 54 on land; add a few miles to the figures of Distance 
Table for side-trip tickets, etc.:— 

Minimum. Maximum. 


Ocean Passage . $S0.00 $300.00 

Railway Fares: 

1,000 miles in Great Britain. 20.00 40.00 

2,400 miles on the Continent. 45.60 86.40 

Hotels:— 

15 days in Great Britain. 24.90 54.78 

39 days on the Continent. 5S.50 107.25 

Laundry . 3.50 7.00 

Cabs, trams, ’buses and boat fares. 10.80 27.00 

Admissions and guides. 5.40 27.00 

Miscellaneous . 5.40 27.00 


$254.10 $676.43 

The assertion may be hazarded that the average of these totals, 
$465.26, is not very far from the average ordinary travel expendi¬ 
ture of Americans making such a trip for the first time. It will 
be seen that this figures out close to $5 a day for the average 
of expenditure while on shore, with the minimum a little over $3 
and the maximum a trifle under $7. It has been shown that 
Europe on a dollar a day or even less in a possibility, and doubtless 
many Americans spend $10 a day or more, but the range from 
$3 to $7 is that of three-quarters of the tourists making long jour¬ 
neys and short sta 3 x s. If the same distance were to be covered 
in twice the time, lessening the average daily railroad cost and 
making it possible to get more pension rates, the range would be 
perhaps from $2.20 to $5.50 a day, with $3.85 as the average. 

Three-quarters of the bicycle tourists using no trains, seldom 
staying more than a night or two in a place, passing little time 
in city hotels, and dividing the tour between England and the 
continent, will range in ordinary travel expenditure while on 
shore from $2 to $3.50 a day, with $2.50 the average, for there 
are more making the lower than the higher expenditure. Includ- 













27 * 


GOING ABROAD? 


lng ocean passa.ee. it may be said that a two months’ bicycle tour 
abroad will cost most cyclists from $160 to $430, according to the 
steamers used and the shore expenditure preferred, with $250 per¬ 
haps the average outlay; for three months the range would be from 
$220 to $535, with $325 the average. 


WEIGHTS AND MEASURES. 


The metric or decimal system is in common use in all the 
countries of Europe except Great Britain and Russia, where its use 
is permissive and as with us is practically confined to some scien¬ 
tific work. 

LENGTH: The denominations likely to be found in every 
day use are the millimetre, 0.0393 inches; the centimetre, 0.393 
inches; the metre, 39.37 inches, and the kilometre, 3,280 feet 10 
inches, being 1000 metres. It is easy to fix in mind that the 
metre is three feet three inches and three tenths of an inch, or 
thereabouts; that a kilometre is, in round terms, three-fifths of a 
mile, being in fact only 112 feet in excess thereof. 

WEIGHT: The common denominations are the gram, 0.035 
ounce, or 15.4 grains; the kilo (contraction for kilogram), 2.2 
pounds; and the metric ton, 2204.G pounds. 

CAPACITY: The common denominations are the cubic centi¬ 
metre, 0.061 cubic inch; and the litre, 0.91 quart dry, or 1.1 quart 
liquid. Those who find the memory aided by the adage that “a 
pint’s a pound the world round,” can find a more nearly accurate 
mnemonic rhyme in “a litre’s a kilo from any old billow,” for 
as a matter of fact a kilogram is the weight of a litre of water 
at its maximum density. If one wants further to jog the memory 
with jingles, he will for travel purposes come near enough if he 
commits: ‘‘Said Paul to Peter, a yard’s a metre, a quart’s a 
litre.” 

SURFACE: The only term met frequently is the hectare, 
2.471 acres, so that there are about 259 hectares in a square 
mile. 

In traveling one is more likely than at home to have occa¬ 
sion to remember that 5280 feet make a mile, 6080 feet a sea mile, 
16 1-2 feet a rod, 40 rods or 660 feet a furloug, 8 furlongs a mile, 
and three miles a league: that 6 feet make a fathom, and 120 
fathoms or 720 feet a cable length: that in circular measure 60 
seconds make a minute, 60 minutes a degree, and 360 degrees 
the circle; that a hand (most frequently applied to a horse’s 
height) is four inches. The stone is a measure not yet obsolete in 
England; legally it is 14 pounds, but in practice varies with the 
article weighed, a stone of butcher’s meat or fish being reckoned 
at 8 pounds; of cheese, 16 pounds; of hemp, 32 pounds; of 
glass, 5 pounds. The English hundred weight is 112 pounds. 




279 


DISTANCES IN ENGLISH MILES. 


0 ) 

be 

2 

*S-l 

a 

n 

O 


153 

408 

412 

190 

133 

352 

384 

47 


470 

478 

148 

U 

0> 

. 

46 

399 

> 

O 

be 


431 

Q 

u 

p 

fS 



£3 

O 

-d 


a 

be 

O 


5 

P 

i 


H 

d 

U 


191 

119 

195 

56 

279 

77 

217 

393 

221 

401 

242 

71 


202 


76 


UO 


_384 

388 


134 


16‘ 


63 


o 

'O 

a 

o 

>-J 


as 

a 

o 

V-l 

o 


Queenstown to Dublin... 177 

Dublin to Belfast. 113 

Dublin to Londonderry... 209 
Edinburgh to Newcastle.. 125 

lork to Newcastle. SI 

York to Hull.'. 39 

London to Queensboro’... 49 

London to Folkestone.... 72 

St. Malo to Paris. 283 

Cherbourg to Paris....'.’. 231 

Havre to Paris. 142 

Dieppe to Paris. 106 

Boulogne to Paris. J58 

Ostend to Brussels. 78 

Antwerp to Brussels. 28 

Antwerp to Rotterdam... CO 
Rotterdam to Amsterdam 53 
Naples to Brindisi. 240 


129 

82 

222 

Bristol. 

281 

135 

117 

Cambridge. 

180 

125 

263 

Dover. 

537 

472 

205 

Edinburgh. 

551 

279 

458 

150 

240 

194 

Glasgow. 

Harwich. 

320 

237 

100 

Liverpool. 

225 

79 

188 

London. 

207 

70 

198 

Oxford. 

. 

170 

351 

Plymouth. 

4-> 


*267 

Southampton. 

2 O 

# 

York. 

3 d d 3 

i? t 0 

.<3 

4-> 

3 

O 

02 



Amsterdam 


Basle 


Berlin 


Brussels 


Calais 


Cologne 


Florence 


Geneva 


Hamburg 


Lucerne 


Marseilles 


Milan 


Munich 


Naples 


Paris 


Rome 


Venice 


a 

eS 

t-4 

<D 




487 


412 


140 


282 

157 

922 

652 


320 


546 


889 


705 


528 


1272 


353 


1112 


870 


733 


504 


392 


486 

331 

435 

165 


552 


59 


456 


218 


220 


785 


337 


625 


383 


590 


489 


631 


359 


888 


769 


178 


563 

960 

722 


428 

1176 

651 


1021 


791 

483 


tt 


Vienna to Constantinople. 1298 
Berlin to St. Petersburg. 1091 

Paris to Bordeaux. 363 

Paris to Madrid. 902 

Paris to Lisbon.1323 

Marseilles to Barcelona.. 327 

Madrid to Cadiz. 451 

Madrid to Gibraltar. 468 

Madrid to Barcelona.435 


142 


139 

827 


557 


404 

451 


749 


610 

510 


117' 


213 


1017 


775 


739 


281 


921 

572 


546 


545 

720 


713 


652 

1247 


184 


1092 


877 


857 


0 

O 

0> 

O 

c3 

> 

O) 

a 

be 

5 

2a 

4 > 

a 

766 


CD 

O 


496 

445 

P 

O 

a 

277 

977 

717 

390 

386 

158 

611 

1 —I 

787 

401 

291 

1008 

449 

549 

217 

283 

760 

169 

371 

460 

394 

557 

236 

1116 

351 

758 

1305 

736 

305 

750 

388 

582 

396 

956 

196 

603 

1150 

576 

714 

181 

448 

920 

334 

576 

569 

729 

605 

571 


Oi 

CO 

J3 

l-H 

<5 

348 

732 

719 


536 


561 


513 


901 


384 


1—1 

P 

y 

m 


567 

748 


P 

<D 

p 

555 

582 

106 

H-i 

0 

■407 

593 

155 

”908 


165 

363 

4(19 

720 

378 

553 

299 

79' 

S49 

7H6 


398 


Vienna 


Venice 










































































































































































































28 o 


GOING ABROAD? 

OCEAN DISTANCES. 


The trans-Atlantic steamer lines use different routes or 
“tracks” in crossing the ocean, and each varies its track according 
to the season of the year. Furthermore, storms or fogs and cur¬ 
rents may so alter the course of a boat that she will travel many 
more miles than expected. The following distances approximate 
the shortest course followed by the liners: 


From. 
New York 


Philadelphia 

41 

Boston. 

44 


To. Miles. 

Queenstown.2,800 

Liverpool .3,045 

Southampton .3,110 

Glasgow .3,370 

Antwerp .3,430 

London .3,180 

Havre .3,200 

Bremen.3,540 

Hamburg .3,590 

.Southampton .3,506 

.Liverpool .3,225 

Queenstown .2,G55 

Liverpool ... . # .2,890 


Montreal... 

Quebec. 

Cape Race. 
Tory Island 


Quebec .... 
Cape Race. 
Tory Island. 
Liverpool .. 


..180 
. .820 
1,740 

..240 2,980 


Montreal... 

Quebec. 

Belle Isle... 
Tory Island 


Quebec .... 
Belle Isle... 
Tory Island. 
Liverpool .. 


..180 

..733 

1,656 

240 2,809 


From. 
Dublin., 


Belfast. 

44 

Douglas. 
Hull.... 


Newcastle. 

44 

M 


IN EUROPEAN WATERS. 
To. 

.Holyhead .. 

.Douglas .. 

.Liverpool . 

.Liverpool . 

.Glasgow .. 

.Liverpool .. 

.Bergen . 

.Christiania ..... 

.Copenhagen . 

.Bergen. 

.Christiania . 

,Copenbagep . 


Miles. 
.. 69 

.. 94 
.. 138 
.. 156 
.. 129 
.. 75 

.. 499 
.. 558 
.. 621 
.. 392 
.. 488 
.. 586 










































































APPENDIX. 

281 

London. 



.1299 

Gibraltar. 



981 

Malta. 



CO|| 

London. 




Harwich. 




44 




44 



140 

4 4 



370 

Queen boro’. 




Dover. 




Southampton... 




• 4 



174 

Cologne. 




Genoa. 




Brindisi. 




4 4 




* 4 




4 4 




Alexandria. 




4 t 





LONDON TO PARIS. 


Route 

Rail 

M 1 leS 

Boat 

Miles 

Total 

Miles 

Aver. 

time 

Hours 

Fares 

1 st 

Cl ss 

2 : d 
Class 

Folkestone-Boulogne. 

230 

30 

260 

7'A 

$ 12.80 

#8-75 

L>o\e.-Calais. 

2 b 1 

21 

282 

8 

1 3-b3 

g.b 6 

Nesvhaven-Dieppe. 

i&3 

64 

227 

10 

9.3b 

0.80 

bouthampion Havre. 

221 

122 

343 

15 

8.32 

6.0 3 


(Most experienced tourists take 2 nd or 3rd class rail and 1st class boat 
tickets. The Southampton-Havre boats make night passages only; no 
extra charge for berths.) 


POINTS OF THE COMPASS. 

The points of the compass in their order round the circle 
are: north, north-by-east, north-north-east, north-east-by-north, 

north-east, north-east-by-east, east-north-east, east-by-Dorth, east, 
east-by-south, east-south-east, south-east-by-east, south-east, south¬ 
east-by-south, south-south-east, south-by-east, south, south-by-west, 
south-south-west, south-west-by-south, south-west, south-west-by¬ 
west, west-south-west, west-by-south, west, west-by-north, west- 
north-west, north-west-by-west, north-west, north-west-by-north, 
north-north-west, north-by-west, north. 































































2$2 


GOING ABROAD? 


MONEY TABLE. 


U. S. A. 

England. 

France, 

Belgium, 

Switz’d. 

Germany 

Italy 

TToTlah^r 

Austria 

Norway, 

Sweden. 

Demmrk 

$ cts. 

£■ s. 

d. 

Fr. c. 

Mks 

. pf. 

Lire 

c. 

FI. cts. 

Kr. ore. 

01 


% 

5 


4 


5 

2 

4 

02 


l 

10 


8 


10 

5 

8 

06 


3 

31 


25 


31 

15 

22 

10 


5 

52 


42 


52 

24 

37 

20 


10 

1 00 


85 

1 

00 

48 

74 

24 

1 

0 

1 25 

1 

0 

1 

25 

GO 

89 

27 

1 

2 

1 40 

1 

12 

1 

40 

G7 

1 00 

49 

2 

0 

2 50 

2 

4 

o 

50 

1 20 

1 81 

73 

3 

0 

3 75 

3 

6 

3 

75 

1 80 

2 70 

97 

4 

0 

5 00 

4 

8 

5 

00 

2 40 

3 59 

1 22 

5 

0 

G 25 

5 

10 

G 

25 

3 00 

4 52 

1 95 

8 

0 

10 00 

8 

1 G 

10 

00 

4 80 

7 22 

2 43 

10 

0 

12 50 

10 

21 

12 

50 

G 00 

9 00 

2 92 

12 

0 

15 09 

12 

25 

15 

00 

7 20 

10 82 

3 41 

14 

0 

17 50 

14 

28 

17 

50 

8 40 

12 G3 

3 65 

15 

0 

18 75 

15 

30 

18 

75 

9 00 

13 52 

3 8 * 

16 

0 

2 ) 00 

1 G 

32 

20 

00 

9 GO 

14 41 

4 38 

18 

0 

21 5) 

18 

OO 

22 

50 

10 80 

16 22 

4 8 G 

1 0 

0 

2 > 00 

20 

42 

25 

00 

12 00 

18 00 


THERMOMETERS. 


Reau¬ 

mur. 

80o 

GO 

48 

40 

3G 

34 

32 

29 

28 



20 

19 

1G 

12 

10 


0 

— 4 

- 

— 8 
—10 
-12 
—14 
—10 
—19 
—20 
—24 


Fah¬ 

renheit, 

212 o 

1G7 

140 

122 

113 

108 

104 

98 

95 

90 

80 

77 

76 

68 

G3 

59 

55 

50 

45 

40 

35 

32 

23 

20 

14 

10 

5 

0 

— 4 
-10 
—13 
—20 


Centi¬ 
grade. 
lOOo 
75 
GO 
50 
45 
42 K 
40 
37 
35 

32 K 

30 
25 
24 
20 
17 K 
15 
13 
10 
7 Vk 
4/2 
2 
0 

- n 


—10 
— 12/4 
—15 
—18 
—20 
—24 

I —30 



a; 

E 

c 

o 

XI 

c 

o 

Bid 

S -2 

— O 

Z a> 


3 -M 
*® 

aTcq 

c 

bn ... 

o o 

o ■'*! 
Cj o' 

• - aT 
» £ 

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“1 « 


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rt 

TJ 

3 

cq 


4L C ■ 

■j) ( 1 ) ■ 

bfl 
ra 


Uj c 

U "t 

Z c 

“ § 
Qc c 
CU - 
U. -g 
CL O 


£ 

< , 
•- <u 
~r a 
rH o 

o' (J 

t/T . ^ 

ID S' ! 

1/1 Tf 

o’ 


u. o 3 

5 ?“-S 

2 g! 
W O S 


1/5 , „ 

s a 

lO 

*7 <u 

^ i-t 
, 0 ) 
pui CQ 


• e* L- 
lO CO 

id - 
- bo 

<V J-« 
^ 3 
a 






H ^ 

<D 

si 

O t/2 






















































INDEX. 


Allen, Grant, 248 
Art, Preparatory Study 
o c , 254 

Study in Paris, 168 
Automobiles, 79 

Baedekers, 137, 243, 

249 

Bags, Traveling, 220 
Baggage. See Luggage 
Bank of England Notes, 
189 

Bank Holidays, 19, 204 
Bankidg Houses, 185 
Berths, 41 

Bicycle Touring, 80, 262 
Bicycle Tours, Ex¬ 
pense of, 277 
Bishop, William Henry, 

Boarding-houses, 142, 
272 

Boating on the Thames, 
73 

Bradshaw, 61 
Bull Fighting in Spain, 
21 

Busses, 181 

Cabin, Choosing a, 40 
Cable, 214 
Cabs, 77, 180, 264 
Cafes, 84, 121, 174, 181, 
229 

Camera, Carrying a, 
206 

Camp an ini, 167 
Candles, 125, 130 
Canoeing on the Con¬ 
tinent, 74 

Carnival at Rome and 
Nice, 17 

Cattle Steamers, 37, 50 
Channel, Crossing the, 
70, 263 

Channing, Grace Ellery, 
259 

Children, 7, 69. 140, 168 
Circular Tours, 67, 268 
Classes on Cars, 53, 270 
Climates, 10 
Clothing, 45, 74, 81, 84, 
102, 2^2. 235, 257 
Coins, 190 

Commercial Travelers, 
265 

Compartments, Car, 53 
Compass, Points of the, | 
281 I 


Concierges, 174 
Consuls of the L. A. 
W„ 94 

Coupons for Hotels, 
132 

Couriers, 177 
Courtesy on the Con¬ 
tinent, 231 
Cricket Matches, 20 
Crating Bicycles, 122 
Curios, 204 
Currency, 188 
Custom Houses, 192 
Cyclists’ Touring Club, 
89 

Days Celebrated, 19 
Diligence, The, 75 
Dining Cars, 58, 270 
Distances at Sea, 4S, 
280 

on Land, 279 
Dogs, 49, 197 
Dougherty, Algernon, 
157 

Dress, 45, 74, 81, 84, 
102, 223, 235 
Drink, 120, 181, 228, 
255 

Elevators, 128 
Etiquette, Commercial, 

' 235 

Exchange, Bills of, 184 
Excursion Tickets, 67 
Expense Totals, 7, 52, 
82, 87, 146, 163, 

168, 276 
Express, 211 
Express Checks, 187 

Fares on Railways, 66 
Fees on Shipboard, 44 
on Land, 169 
Films for Cameras, 206 
Fishing, Salmon, in 
Scotland, 20 
Flower Festival at 
Paris, 21 

Food, 140. 154, 155, 
c>28 259 

Football Season, 20 
Footwear. 102, 226, 257 
Forwarding Trunks, 212 

Gambling, 8 
Gold, 190 
Guide Books, 243 
Guides, 179, 204 

283 


Headwear, 226 
Heat. 13, 61, 126, 141, 
146, 155, 225 
Health Resorts, 29 
Historical Novels, 249 
Holidays, National, 19 
Holy Week, 17 
Horse Fair in Nor¬ 
mandy, 21 

Hotels and Touring 
Clubs, 90 

Cost of living in, 
129 

Damage in, 264 
European, 125, 272 
Fees in, 171 
Housekeeping, 146, 259 
Hubert. Philip G.. Jr., 
152 

Innkeepers and the 
Law, 121, 140 
International Union of 
Pensions, 143 
Interpreters, 204 

L’Alliance Francaise, 

164 

Lamps, Bicycle, 100 
Languages, Study of, 
163, 239 

Laundry, 104, 119, 131, 
259 

League of American 
Wheelmen, 88 
Letters, 47, 208 
Letters of Credit, 185 
Lodgings, 121, 144 
London to Paris, 281 
Luggage at Athens, 272 
on Bicycles, 99, 110 
on Cars, 63, 218 
at Stations, 64, 146 
on Steamers, 47 
Luncheons, 59 

Malaria at Rome, 14 
Measures and Weights, 
278 

Medicine, Study of, 162 
Melba. Mme., 167 
Meriwether, Lee, 81 
Metric System, 278 
Money, Carrying, 191 
Relative Value of, 
190, 282 

Moore, Prof. Charles 
H., 254 

Music, Study of, 166 



284 


INDEX. 


Night Travel, 58, 269 Royal Academy, Lon- 
Nilsson, Christine, 16G don, 21 

Novels of Places, 249 

Salons, Parisian, 21 
Ocean Distances, 280 Salutations, 233 
Ocean Steamers, 35 Sanborn, A. F., 83, 255 
Omnibus, The Hotel, Schools, 168 

77, 137 Sea, Objects Visible at, 

Sight-seeing from, 282 
181, 283 Seasickness, 42 

„ . Season in London and 

Paintings, Famous, 273 Paris> The> 12 

Paper Money, 189 Shipboard, Life on, 38 
Parcel Post, -11, 2o6 Shooting Season in 
Pardons in Brittany, 18 England, 20 

Passes into Italy, 26, Shopping, 198, 270 
p 112 » Sleeping Cars, 58, 269 

Passports, 216 Smoking in Cars, 60 

Pcdestrwii Tours, 79, Smoking Materials, 230 

p 2 - t . , Smuggling, 119, 193 

Pensions, International c 0 ~ n 1 9 ft 

Union of, 143 Sorbonne, The, 161, 240 
Living in, 141, 2o6 Southern Route, 11, 219 
lees in. 173 Souvenirs, 205 

PersonaHy Conducted, specialties, Where to 
p, 477 . Buy, 199 

Photography, 205 Staterooms, 42 

Physicians Charges 34 Statu es, Where to Find 

Pickpockets, 66, 182 Famous, 273 

Porters, Railway, 64^ Steamboats, European, 


Portier, The, 127, 171 
Postal, 208 
Poste Restante, 210 
Prices, Foreign, 198 
Purdy, Theodore, 151 

Quarter Days, 19 

Racing in England, 20 
Railways, Cars, 53, 269, 
272 

Bicycles on, 123 
See Tickets 
Rain in France, 108 
Registration of Lug¬ 
gage, 63 

Restaurants, 84, 145 

172 

Ritchie, John, Tr., 244 
Roads, 75, 105, 107, 

112, 113, 262 
Rowing Races in Eng< 
land, 20 


69 

Steamer Chairs', 46 
Steamship, Speed of 
Mail, 49 

Steerage, Crossing in 
the, 40 

Stetson, Clarence, 97 
Stewards, 44 
Storing Trunks, 212 
Storms at Sea, 11 
Sugar and Exertion, 85 
Summer Study, 159, 
160, 164 

Table d’Hote, 130, 336, 
139 

Tariff, U. S., 195 
Taxometer, 264 
Taylor, Bayard, 79 
Teachers’ Guild, 143, 
165 

iTemperance Hotels, 134 


Telegraphing, 214 
Thermometers, 282 
Tickets on Railways, 66, 
266, 268 

Time, Differene in, 282 
On Shipboard, 45 
Tires, Bicycle, 95 
Tobacco, 197, 230 
Toilet Articles, 221 
Touring Clubs, 88 
Tourist Agencies, 67, 
179 

Trains, 62 

Trunks, Forwarding, 
212 

On Cabs, 78 
On Steamers, 47 
On Trains, 63 
Packing, 219 
Sealing, in Italy, 65 
Steamer, 218 

Underclothing, 224 
Universities, English, 
158 

French, 161 
German, 160 

Vermin, 128 
Voice Training, 166 

Walking, 79, 225 
Water, Drinking, 120, 
131, 230 

Weights and Measures, 
278 

Winds in France, 108 
In Great Britain, 105 
Winter, Travel in, 11 
Wine, 131, 229 
Women, Cycling Tours 
for, 87 

Dress for, 223 
Treatment of, 9 
Women’s Rest Tour 
Association, 9, 84, 
142 

World, Journey Round, 
17 

Wright, Margaret B., 
147, 356 


Countries and Regions. 


Algeria, Attractions, 28 
Climate, 16 
Health Resort, 30 
Asia Minor, 28 
Austria, Climate, 15 
Cycling, 112 
Festival in, 18 


Guide Books, 247 
Licenses, 266 
Auvergne, Health Re¬ 
sorts, 32 

Belgium, Attractions, 

24 


Climate, 36 
Cycling, 109 
Dutiable Goods, 198 
Black Forest, 25, 113 
Brittany, Attractions, 
28, 72 
Pardons, 18 





INDEX. 


285 


Bulgaria, Cycling, 116 

Channel Islands, At¬ 
tractions, 71 
Climate, 16 
Cycling, 106 
Cornwall, Climate, 16 

Denmark, Attractions, 

24 

Climate, 16, 272 
Cycling, 113 
Licenses, 266 
Tourist Society, 272 

Egypt, Climate, 16 
Engadine, Cycling, 111 
Health Resort, 33 
England.. See Great 
Britain 

France, Attractions, 28 
Climate, 103 
Cycling, 106 
Dutiable Goods. 197 
Health Resorts, 29 
Hotels. 92, 135 
Housekeeping, 147 
Language, 163, 239 
Licenses, 266 
Railways, 56, 68 
Rain, 108 
Universities, 161 
Wind, 108 

Germany, Attractions, 

25 

Climate, 15 
Cycling, 112 
Dutiable Goods, 197 
Hotels, 135 
Housekeeping, 152 
Language, 163 
Licenses, 266 
Railways, 54, 56, 57, 
267 

Shopping, 271 
Universities, 160 
Great Britain, Attrac¬ 
tions, 24 

Boarding Houses, 142 
Cheap Living, 82 
Climate, 103 
Cycling, 105 
Dutiable Goods, 197 
Express and Freight, 
212 

Guide Books, 245 
Holidays, 19 
Hotels. 90. 134 
Housekeeping, 156 
Licenses, 266 
Lodgings, 144 


Novels, 249 
Railways, 53, 56, 269 
Shooting and Sport¬ 
ing, 20, 272 
Universities, 158 
Walking, 84 
Greece, Attractions, 28 
Climate, 17 
Cycling, 116 
Guernsey. See Chan¬ 
nel Islands 

Hartz Mountains, Cy¬ 
cling, 113 

Holland, Attractions, 24 
Climate, 15 
Cycling, 109 
Dutiable Goods, 197 
Holy Land, Time to 
Visit, 17 
Tour of, 28 

Ireland, Cycling, 105 
Guide Books, 246 
Italy, Attractions, 27 
Best Time for Visit¬ 
ing, 13 
Cycling, 111 
Depreciated Currency, 
189 

Dutiable Goods. 197 
Guide Books, 247 
Hotels, 135 
Housekeeping, 150, 
259 

Language, 163 
Licenses, 266 
Novels, 251 
Pensions, 141 
Tax on Tickets, 69 
Thieves, 65 

Jersey. See Channel 
Islands 

Morocco, Climate, 16 

Normandy, Horse Fair, 
21 

Tramping in, 255 
Norway. See Scandi¬ 
navia 

Orkney Islands, Cli¬ 
mate, 16 

Portugal, Cycling, 116 

Rhine Trip, 25, 72 
Riviera, Climate, 13 
Cycling, 108 
Health Resort, 29, 31 
Roumania, Cycling, 116 


Russia, Attractions, 24 
Climate, 10 
Cycling, 114 
Licenses, 266 
Passports, 216 

Scandinavia, Attrac¬ 
tions, 24 
Climate, 10, 16 
Coaching, 75 
Cycling, 114 
Guide Books, 247 
Honesty, 140, 213 
Licenses, 266 
Sailings for, 70 
Shopping, 270 

Scotland, Attractions, 
24 

Climate, 10 
Coaching, 75 
Novels, 250 
Also see Great Britain 

Servia, Cycling, 116 

Sicily, Climate, 15 

Spain, Attractions, 28 
Climate, 16, 262 
Cycling, 115, 262 
Hotels, 130 
Housekeeping, 150 
Language, 163 
Smoking, 60 

Switzerland, Climate, 
10, 15 
Cycling, 110 
Dutiable Goods, 197 
Guide Books, 247 
Hotels, 136 
Pensions, 141 
Possible Tour, 26 
Railways, 56, 268 
Steamboats, 72 
Tramping, 83 

Tanus Mountains, 
Health Resorts o c , 
32 

Thames, Boating on 
the, 73 

Touraine, Attractions, 
28, 72 

Tunis, Attractions, 28 
Climate, 16 

Turkey, Climate, 17 
Cycling, 116 
Passports, 216 

Tyrol, 112 

Wight, Isle of, 71 


286 


INDEX. 


Mention of Places. 


Aaslesund, 70 
Abbazia, 33 
Aix-les-Bains, 27, 32 
Ajaccio, 30 
Alexandria, 211, 281 
Algiers, 16, 28, 30 
Amalfi, 13, 27, 252 
Amelie-les-Bains, 30 
Amiens, 28 

Amsterdam, 24, 113, 

210, 230, 275, 276, 
279, 282 
Angers, 108 
Antibes, 31 
Antwerp, 24, 74, 200, 
210, 274, 275, 276, 
279, 280, 2S1 
Areachon, 30 
Ascot, 20 

Athens, 17, 28, 211, 272 
Avranches, 71 

Baden, 25, 33, 113 
Basle, 267, 279 
Bayreuth, 21 
Barcelona, 279 
Beaulieu, 30 
Belfast, 200, 279, 2S0 
Bergen, 70, 280 
Berlin, 9, 25, 58, 94, 
129, 147, 160, 163, 
167. 168, 184, 200, 
202, 210, 264, 272, 
273, 274, 275, 276, 
279, 282 
Bernay, 21 
Berne, 26, 282 
Biarritz, 30 
Bideford, 250 
Birmingham, 212 
Biskra, 30 
Bonn, 25, 160 
Bordeaux, 30, 279 
Boulogne, 108, 123, 

279, 280 
Blois, 150 

Bremen, 11, 74, 210, 
280 

Breslau, 161 
Brindisi, 263, 279 
Bristol, 279 
Bruges, 200 
Brussels, 24, 157, 200, 
279. 282 

Budapest, 25, 246, 282 

Cadiz, 16, 28, 163, 263, 
279 

Cairo, 16, 28 
Calais, 71, 72, 279, 281 
Cambridge, 94, 105, 159, 
250, 279 


Cancale, 72 
Cannes, 29, 31 
Capri, 27 
Carlsbad, 33 
Cerbere, 115 
Chamonix, 26 
Charlottenberg, 114 
Chateauneuf, 32 
Chatel-Guyon, 32 
Cherbourg, 279 
Christiania, 70, 280 
Christiansand, 70 
Coire, 26 
Colico, 26 

Cologne, 25, 58, 279, 
281, 282 
Constance, 267 
Constantinople, 17, 28, 
211, 247, 279, 281 
Cookham, 73 
Copenhagen, 24, 70, 

280, 282 

Cordova, 16, 28 
Corfu, 30 
Cork, 105 

Dieppe, 71, 94, 279, 281 
Dijon, 108 
Douglas, 280 
Dover, 71, 279, 281 


Dresden, 25, 

152, 

354, 

168, 200, 

202, 

272, 

274, 275, 

276 


Drontheim, I 

ro 


Dublin, 94, 

163, 

279, 

280 



Dumfries, 94 



Edinburgh, 

105, 

145, 

160. 277, 

279, 

281 


Ems, 33 
Epsom, 20 
Erlangen, 161 
Erquelinnes, 109 
Esbjerg, 70 
Eton, 21 

Falmouth, 16 
Florence, 13, 14, 18, 23, 
27, 112. 151, 168, 
200, 247, 248, 252, 
273, 274, 275, 276, 
277, 279 
Fluelen, 26 
Flushing, 281 
Folkestone, 279, 281 
Fontainebleau, 23, 108, 
253 

Frankfort, 32, 33 
P'ranzensbad, 33 
Freiburg, 113, 161 


Geneva, 15, 23, 26, 163, 

199, 279 

Genoa, 11, 13, 27, 112, 

200, 281 
Ghent, 200, 265 
Gibraltar, 16, 28, 48, 

188, 279, 281 
Glasgow, 105, 279, 280 
Goodwood, 55 
Gothenburg, 70 
Goeschenen, 26 
Granada, 28, 150 
Grangemouth, 70 
Granton, 70 
Granville, 71 
Grassina, 18 
Greifswald, 160 
Grimsby, 70 

Haarlem, 24 
Hague, The, 24, 275 
Haile, 161 

Hamburg, 11, 74, 210, 
279, 280, 281 
Hampton, 73, 245, 276 
Hango, 70 
Hanover, 168 
Harwich. 7<>, 279, 281 
Havre, 108, 123, 279, 
280 

Heidelberg, 25, 155, 

160, 161, 267 
Helsingborg, 70, 114 
Hendaye, 115 
Henley, 20, 74 
Homburg, 32 
Plolyhead, 280 
Hook of Holland, 281 
Hull, 70, 279, 280 
Hyeres, 30 

Tnnsbruck, 26 
Interlaken, 26 

Jaffa, 281 
Tena, 161 
Jerez, 16, 28, 229 

Kiel, 160 
Kingston, 74 
Kissengen, 33 
Koenigsberg, 160 

T^a Bourboule, 32 
I^andskrona, 114 
I^ausanne, 26, 164 
Eauterbrunnen, 26 
Leipsic, 25, 160, 161, 
168, 245 
Leith, 70 

Leyden, 24 \, 


INDEX. 


287 


Lincoln, 145 252, 279, 281 St. Malo, 71, 279, 281 

Lisbon, 116, 279 Nauheim, 33 St. Nectaire, 32 

Lisieux, 165 Newcastle, 70, 279, 280 St. Nicolas-des-Eaux, 

Liverpool, 11, 20, 48, Newhaven, 71, 281 18 

52, 56, 94, 105, 122, Newport, 249 St. Petersburg, 24, 70, 

212, 213, 270, 277, Nice, 13, 16, 27, 31, 151 115, 146, 211, 273, 

279, 280 Nuremberg, 26, 72,247 274, 275, 279, 282 

London, 7, 8, 12, 16, 0 . 1Q Ste. Marguerite, 32 

20, 21, 23, 56, 58, 79 99Q San Remo, 13, 14, 30 

71, 72, 73, 74, 79, 0™*°, 2 J.\ 22® Schaffhausen, 113 

82, 83, 88, 89, 94, p s t e nd, 263, 279 Sestri, 31 

96, 97, 98, 105, 106, 1ft Seville, 16, 28, 150, 163, 

122, 134, 142, 143, ?4, 142 145, 156, 200, 274, 276 

144, 145, 146, 147, lt)8 » 159 > 277 » 279 Siena, 27, 163 

156, 157, 159, 166, p a dua, 27, 257 Signa, 18 

167, 179, 198, 200, Palermo 30 Sorrento, 27, 200 

o?o’ ^4’ ol-’ Paris, 7, 8, 12, 17, 20, Southampton, 11, 71, 

218, 24o, 2 1, 22, 23, 27, 28, 94, 122, 250, 279 

32, 58, 71, 72, 92, 280, 281, 283 

94, 95, 98, 103, 107, Stavenger, 70 
108, 123, 129, 135, Stockholm, 70, 114, 211, 
142, 143, 145, 147, 282 

148, 149, 157, 161, Stoke Poges, 245 
163, 164, 167, 168, Stonistad, 114 
172, 175, 176, 178, Storlim, 114 
179, 182, 189, 200, Strasburg, 25, 113, 161 
201, 202, 203, 205, Stratford, 250 
210, 213, 214, 218, 

239, 240, 241, 247, Tangier, 28 
248, 251, 254, 263, Tiverton, 94 
264, 265, 266, 271, Tours, 95, 144, 163, 

272, 273, 274, 275, 165, 251 

276, 277, 279, 281, Trent, 26 


246, 249, 262, 263, 
264, 265, 270, 271, 
272, 273, 274, 275, 
276, 277, 279, 280, 
28j 283 

Londonderry, 279 
Lucerne, 15, 26, 27, 
200, 273, 279 
Lugano, 27 
Lyme-Regis, 250 
Lyons, 27, 200 


Macon, 108 
Madrid, 16, 28, 157, 

163, 210, 263, 274, 

279 

Maidenhead, 73 
Mainz, 25, 281 
Malaga, 30 
Malmo, 70, 114 
Maloja, 111 
Malta, 281 

Manchester, 105, 250 
Mannheim, 267 
Marburg, 161 
Marienbad, 33 
Marseilles, 58, 279 
Martigny, 26 
Martinsbruck, 111 
Medagues, 32 
Meiringen, 26 
Mentone, 13, 27, 29, 30 
Milan, 27, 199, 200, 275, Rennes. 200, 203 


282, 283 
Pau, 16, 30, 150 
Penzance, 16 
Perugia, 27 
Piraeus, 281 
Pisa, 27 
Plymouth, 279 
Pompeii, 27 
Port Said, 281 
Portsmouth, 249 
Prague, 25 


Trieste, 282 
Trondhjem, 70 
Tunis, 16, 28 
Turin, 24, 32, 95 


Venice, 13, 14, 19, 26, 
27, 112, 151, 352, 
199, 200, 202, 205, 
247, 248, 252, 274, 
275, 276, 277, 279 
Ventimiglia, 14 

/-v U oci Verona, 27, 151 

Queensboro, 279, 281 Versailles, 21, 253 
Queenstown, 48, 105, Vevev oft 

279 280, 283 Vienna,' 9 , 14, 15, 22, 

Quevy, 109 2 5, 26, 94, 129, 147, 

157, 162, 163, 172, 


279 Rome, 13, 14, 17, 18, 211, 272, 273, 274, 

Monaco, 27, 31 27, 112, 151, 168, .... 279, 282 

Mont Dore, 32 200, 210, 247, 252, Villefranche, lo ° 

Monte Carlo, 13, 27, 272, 273, 274, 275, Vltre - 72 

30, 31 276, 279, 282 ... . 9n . 9 „ 

Mont St. Michel, 72 Rostock, 160 W^et-loo, -04, 

Morlaix, 18 Rotterdam, 24, 74, 113, Weimar 1B8 _ 

Moscow, 24 210, 230, 279, 281 Wiesbaden, 2o, 33 

Munich, 15, 26. 94, 152, Rouen, 28, 108, 247 Winchester 249, 2o0 
153, 154, 157, 160, Royat, 32 Windsor, 73 

163, 198, 273, 274, Rugby, 250 
275, 276, 279, 282 gt CIoud( 21 

Naples, 14, 18, 27, 81, St. Germain, 107 Zermatt, 26 

82, 147, 200, 247, St. Jean du-Doigt, 18 Zurich, 15, 163 


York, 146, 279 



TRAVELERS’ DIRECTORY. 


These announcements have been requested by the author of 
this book because he believes that much information they con¬ 
tain will be helpful to persons about to go abroad. Of course 
he has no personal acquaintance with all the advertisers nor 
with everything they offer, and he cannot undertake to vouch 
for them, but it is permissible to say that the list has been 
selected with an eye to the benefit of the reader, and that 
nothing is here presented that has not a reasonable likelihood 
of being worth the attention of a traveler. 

Readers will confer a favor by letting it be known that ad¬ 
dresses were found here. 

Correspondence is invited concerning the insertion of like an¬ 
nouncements in future editions. 

The copyright of the volume covers the contents of this 
Directory. 


BOOKS AND STUDY. 

Prexbrey’s Information Guide for Trans-Atlantic Travelers. 

Revised edition. Pocket size. “The Baedeker of the 
Ocean.’’ Indispensable to the tourist. Contains eighty-eight 
pages of condensed information on all subjects concerning 
which the ocean voyager needs to be informed. Sent by mail 
upon receipt of price, twenty cents. Frank Presbrey, pub¬ 
lisher, 3-7 West Twenty-ninth Street, New York, N. Y. 

CABLES. 

Adams Cable Codex. 

The most complete publication of its kind issued for cir¬ 
culation among travelers, and contains over 200 pages of sen¬ 
tences especially adapted to the general requirements of 
those who travel for either business, health, or pleasure, or 
for commercial purposes. Price in cloth, fifty cents. By 
mail, four cents extra for postage. Published by Adams 
Cable Codex, P. O. Box 1870, Boston, Mass. 

FOOT COMFORT. 


Comfy Slipper. . .. „ ~ n _ T 

The relief given by an easy pair of slippers after a day 
of sightseeing is such that no experienced traveler will fail in 
securing it. "We sell a slipper that weighs hut; two ounces, 
takes the minimum of roomin the traveling bag, is made of 
pure wool felt, kid soles—ideal for the bedroom. Co or., 
navy blue, drab, brown, and red. Lightest, easiest, cosiest 
made. Women’s. 11.00, men's, $1.25, delivered. Daniel Green 
Felt Shoe Co.. 119 West Twenty-third Street, New York. 





FOREIGN EXPRESS 


American Express Compsfkiy, Principal Office, 65 Broadway, 
New Lork. 

The company's offices and correspondents will store, in¬ 
sure, and forward tourists’ baggage and effects at lowest 
rates. The company has 5 : 000 offices, including New York, 
Boston. Chicago, London, Liverpool, Southampton, Glasgow, 
Paris, Havre, Hamburg. Bremen, Antwerp, "Rotterdam, Naples, 
and Genoa, and shipping and banking correspondents 
throughout the world. 


HOTELS AND PENSIONS. 


Austria—Franzensbad-—Kopp’s Koenigsvilla. 

First-class family hotel, beautifully situated in Salzquell- 
strasse, facing Morgenzell Square, in a large pa.rk of its own. 
Service and attendance of the best. Franzensbad has cold 
springs highly esteemed, but its especial attraction is the 
famous mud baths, long famous for their curative powers. 
The country around is very attractive. The climate is cool, 
airy, and healthy. Auto garage. Proprietor, J. F. Kopp. 

Denmark—Copenhagen—Pension International—Mrs. Berg— 
Brandstrnp, 129, Gotersgade. 

Fru Berg’s Pension has for several years enjoyed a high 
reputation, acquired by the most careful management and 
attention, especially by endeavoring to make the guests feel 
really at home. Central position, overlooking the Botanical 
Garden. Terms: Single room and first breakfast, Kr. 2.50 
a day, 16 a week; double-bedded room and first breakfast, 
Kr. 4 a day, 25 a week; single room, with full board, Kr. 
•1 a day, 25 a week; double-bedded room, with full board, 
Kr. 7 a day, 45 a week. 

England—-Birmingham—The Grand Hotel. 

Is most centrally situated in Colmore Row, within three 
minutes of Snow Hill Station, and near the principal public 
buildings and theatres. It contains luxuriously-furnished 
coffee, drawing, billiard, and smoking rooms, and suites of 
handsome private apartments. Passenger elevator, electric 
light, perfect sa.nitary system, private water supply; head¬ 
quarters of the Midland Automobile Club. Motor garage 
within one minute of the hotel. Birmingham, the chief mer¬ 
cantile, educational, and residential City of the Midlands, is 
a most convenient centre for tourists visiting Shakespeare’s 
country, old-world Warwick, fashionable Leamington, Kenil¬ 
worth Castle. Coventry, and the ancient cathedral cities of 
Lichfield and Worcester. 


England—-London—Kingsley Hotel, Hart Street, Bloomsbury 
Square—Thackeray Hotel, Great Russell Street. 

_ 5"ommodious temperance hotels, conveniently situated 
close to the British Museum, with moderate charges, though 
having all the modern conveniences—elevators, electric light 
throughout, bathrooms on every floor, heated throughout, 
perfect sanitation, fireproof floors, night porters, telephone, 
spacious public rooms. Inclusive charges from $2.10 to $2 60 
a day, for room, attendance, table d’hote breakfast and 
dinner. ESMOND HOTEL, 1 Montague Street, Russell Street, 
adjoining British Museum, under same management, excep¬ 
tionally quiet and economical, with bedrooms from fifty to 
eighty-five cents a night. Full tariff and testimonials on 
application. 

England—London—-G Bassett Road, Notting Hill, W. 

Refined home for permanent or sightseeing visitors near 
weekly S6S t0 a " DartS - Terms ’ thirty shlihnls 


Germany—Had Nauheim—English Pension Villa Fortuna— 
Mrs. Somerville and Miss Gratrix. 

In connection with the Pension Internationale, Wies¬ 
baden, and conducted by the same English ladies. It is most 
conveniently situated, close to the bath-houses and park. 
The Villa is beautifully furnished throughout, and there are 
general dining, drawing, and smoking rooms, so conducive 
to comfort and sociability. The cuisine is carefully super¬ 
vised, and visitors will tind the table abundant and excellent. 
Special attention is paid to the dietary' of patients. Terms 
for room and board, from forty-two marks a week. 

Germany—Bonn on the Rhine—Pension Kluesener—Ilee- 
thovenstrasse, -1. 

Family pension, recommended by Baedeker, and listed by 
the Teachers’ Guild in its “Recommended Addresses.” Terms, 
four to six marks a day; 120 to 150 marks by the month. 
Bonn is delightfully situated on the banks of the Rhine, is of 
itself a charming place of residence, and is made especially 
attractive by the famous University, giving the visitor un¬ 
usual opportunity for study and pleasure. 

Germany—Cologne—Koln on the Rhine—Pension Helliaeh— 
Rlsmare3sstras.se, 11. 

Comfortable home for families and those desiring to 
learn the German language. Sixteen years’ reputation. Les¬ 
sons and conversation in German. Baths. Price, from four 
and one-half to five marks a day. Proprietors, Henriette and 
Clara Helbach. Cologne is one of the attractive German 
cities, with a famous cathedral and many objects of histori¬ 
cal and artistic interest, well worth the tourist’s attention. 

Germany—Cologne—Koln on the Rhine—Pension Oldfield— 
Gereonshof, 17. 

Family pension. Central and quiet position, ten minutes 
from the principal stations, cathedral, and shops. Close to 
electric cars. Trains and boats met if required. German, 
French, and English spoken. Five marks a day, light and 
service included. 

Germany—Dresden—Continental Hotel. 

First-class hotel with beautiful large garden, opposite 
the principal railway terminus. Electric light, steam heat¬ 
ing, elevator. Table d’hote at separate tables. Bedrooms 
from two and one-half marks up. Pension rates from seven 
marks up. Dresden is not to be omitted from any tourisFs 
itinerary. Its architecture and art collections have given it 
the name of “the German Florence.” For the study of art 
and the language, it is unsurpassed. And the best place for 
either a shore or long stay is the Continental Hotel. 

Germany—-Ems—Hotel D’Angieterre. 

Ems is the leading spa for throat troubles, bronchitis, etc., 
as well as for ladies’ complaints. In a fine situation, opposite 
the bathing establishment and park, and close by the inhal¬ 
ing institution, is situated the Hotel d’Angleterre, first-class 
in every respect, with its large, shady park grounds. It has 
suites of rooms, with private bathrooms and toilet conven¬ 
iences, electric light in all rooms, and elevator. It is a de¬ 
lightful horns in which to stay while in search of health, or 
from which to enjoy the charms of a German watering-place, 
and every tourist should visit at least one such. 

Germany—Hamburg—Pension Internationale—38 Holzdamin. 

Occupying a whole house, owned by the proprietor. Has a 
large garden at both front and back. Balcony, veranda, etc. 
Very central, but tranouil situation, near the Alster and the 
new Central Station. Excellent cuisine; baths; English and 


French spoken. The proprietor. Fraulein Winckel, is a cer¬ 
tified teacher. Board and lodging, from four and one-half 
to seven marks a day. 

Germany—Weimar—Pension Augusts!. 

Refined home, with modern comforts. Good situation in 
the vicinity of the Grand-Ducal Park, the theatre and mu¬ 
seums. Gardens, veranda, baths. Excellent table. Terms 
moderate. Highest references. Best opportunities for the 
study of languages, arts, and music. Healthy position, 630 
feet above the sea. Beautiful neighborhood and facilities 
for tours into the Thuringian Wald (mountains). Bertha W. 
Kluge, proprietress. 

Germany — Wiesbaden — English- Ainerican Pension Inter¬ 
nationale—Airs. Somerville and Miss Gratrix—Main- 
«er Strasse, 8. 

A large, handsome villa residence, standing in its own 
grounds, most pleasantly and conveniently situated, close to 
the English church, station, opera house, curhaus, post-office, 
and promenade. Handsome dining and drawing rooms, 
smoking room, bathroom, and most comfortable bedrooms. 
Terms for room, with full board, from thirty-five to fifty-six 
marks a week. Wiesbaden, by reason of its celebrated 
springs, is one of the most frequented resorts of Hurope, and 
is one of the most delightful. 

Holland—Amsterdam—Hotel-Pension Lutkie (Internationale) 
—I.eidsehekade 85 D and C. 

Centrally situated near Beidscheplain. Every modern 
comfort and good cuisine. Barge dining-room, with large 
and small tables. English. French, Italian, and German 
spoken. Terms: Parterre, fi. 5; first floor, fl. 4.50; second 
floor, fl. 4; third floor, fl. 3.50. Amsterdam is not only the 
most interesting city in Holland, but also is the best centre 
from which to make excursions through the country. Its art 
gallery is world-famous; its botanical and zoological gardens 
are among the best in Europe. 

Italy — Florence—Miss G. S. Godkiir— 1, Bung’A mo Guic¬ 
ciardini. 

Small private pension, on the second flat of an old palace 
overlooking the River Arno and the hills. In the most cen¬ 
tral position, five minutes from the chief picture galleries. 
Quiet and comfortable; excellent table; electric light The 
proprietress has been for many years a resident in Italy, 
and is always willing to help travelers with information or 
to find lodgings for them. Strangers coming for the first 
time are expected to offer some credentials of their position. 
Terms, six to eight francs. 

Italy—Naples—Hotel Bristol—Corso Vittorio Emnmiele. 

Beautifully situated in the most select part of the town, 
253 feet above sea level, and commanding a full view of the 
unrivaled panorama. Newly altered, re-furnished and re¬ 
decorated. New restaurant, billiard and smoking rooms, 
winter garden and vestibule promenoir. Bift. Private bath¬ 
room to each apartment. Batest sanitary improvements. 
Accommodation unequaled for real homelike comfort. 
Cuisine second to none. Meals at all hours, a la carte or at 
fixed price. Patronized by leading families of England and 
America. Make it your headquarters from which to make 
excursions to all the beautiful and wonderful places about 
the finest bay in the world. 

Italy—Naples—Hotel Grande Bretagne et D’Angleterre. 

First-class family house. A palatial residence, with mod¬ 
erate terms. Situated in the best part of Naples, facing the 
sea and the beautiful Public Gardens. The hotel has been 
lately re-furnished with every modern comfort. Bift. Elec- 


trie light. First-class cuisine and cellar. Open all the year 
round, the nearest to the American Express Company and 
took s office. The most convenient place from which to 
start out to see Naples itself, as well as to visit the many 
attractive spots in the environs,—Vesuvius, Pompeii, Sor¬ 
rento, Capri, Amalfi, and all the other famous sights. 

Italy—Pesli, near Genoa—Hotel-Pension Forbes. 

This hotel (open January, 1906) is situated in the most 
charming position in Pegli, with a splendid view of sea, 
mountains, and the Gulf of Genoa. The house in itself is 
very picturesque, with large garden and terraces. Electric 
light ir. all rooms, steam heating, and most modern sanita¬ 
tion; good cooking and attendance; great cleanliness. 
Charges very moderate. Garage for motor. Open the year 
round. Managed by the proprietors, Mrs. Forbes & Co. 
Pegli is well recommended for those requiring rest, for 
nerves, insomnia, anaemia, and general debility. It has 
lovely pine woods and balmy, bracing air. 

Italy—Venice—Pension Internationale—Via 22 Marzo 2390 11. 

Superior private board and rooms, Anglo-American style. 
Rooms large, lofty, and sunny. In an old merchant’s palace, 
centrally located, three minutes from the Piazza S. Marco. 
Very large living rooms. A select table, with abundant food 
of excellent quality and variety. Recommended by the 
Women’s Rest Tour Association and by hundreds of Ameri¬ 
cans who have stayed in it, and have found it convenient, 
comfortable, homelike. Terms moderate, from six to eight 
lire. 

Norway—Bergen—International Hotel and Pension—Ottilie 
Hansen—12 Torvet. 

Central situation. Fine view. Homelike. The price, 
which varies from four to seven kroner a day, includes 
breakfast, dinner, supper, and room. Cold and warm baths; 
vapor and hot-air baths and douches can be had. Lift. Elec¬ 
tric light throughout. Travelers wishing to pay gratuities 
need pay to only one of the servants, as they all divide. 

Switzerland—Glion- ( Terri t et - Mon treux)—Grand Hotel Righi 
Vaudois. 

One of the most handsome and comfortable of modern 
hotels, gloriously situated high above Montreux, the pearl of 
Lake Geneva. Five stories, 150 rooms, elevator, irreproach¬ 
able sanitation, beautiful gardens, every facility for sports, 
pleasure, comfort. Open the year round, and it is hard to 
tell at which season it is most delightful, which furnishes the 
most distractions and enjoyments. The purity of the air, 
the grandeur of the view, the magnificent surroundings com¬ 
bine to make Glion one of the enchanted places of the earth. 
And Man has matched Nature in the Grand Hotel Righi 
Vaudois. 

Switzerland—Lucerne—Hotel-Pension Chateau Bromberg. 

First-class pension in the fashionable part of the town. 
Quiet elevated situation, with fine view and surroundings. 
Large gardens. A lovely spot. Balconies; drawing, reading, 
smoking, and bathrooms; electric light and bells throughout; 
telephone; excellent cooking and first-class management by 
the proprietor. Inclusive pension terms from five days, from 
five to eight francs, depending on season and choice of rooms. 
English correspondence. Clemens Waldis, proprietor. 

LETTERS OF CREDIT AND CHECKS. 

New York_American Express Company, 05 Broadway, New 

Issues travelers’ checks for $10, $20. $50. $100, and $200, 
with foreign money values printed thereon, which are the 


most available, economical, secure, and satisfactory form of 
credit for foreign or domestic tours. Also issues travelers’' 
letters of credit. Principal office, 65 Broadway, New York. 
See under “Foreign Express.” 

New York—Brown Brothers <fc Co., 51) AVall Street. 

Issue travelers’ letters of credit and international checks 
available in all parts of the world. Brown, Shipley & Co.’s 
West End office, 123 Pall Mall, London, will be found a great, 
convenience to travelers, it being situated in the heart of 
the hotel and shopping districts. 

New York—Knauth. Naehod & Knline, 15 William Street, 
corner Beaver. 

Issue letters of credit for travelers, and travelers’ checks, 
in convenient denominations, available throughout the world. 
Descriptive pamphlet, “Funds for Travelers,” mailed on ap¬ 
plication. Transfer money by mail, telegraph, or cable to all 
parts of the world. Buy and sell foreign coin and bank 
notes. Investment securities. Members of New York Stock 
Exchange. 

New York—Redmond Co., 33 Pine Street. 

Betters of credit for travelers, issued in dollars, pounds, 
francs, or marks, available the world over. They furnish the 
most satisfactory method for carrying funds while traveling, 
and may be obtained through banks and bankers generally. 
A descriptive pamphlet will be sent upon request. Redmond 
& Co. transact, ft general foreign and domestic banking busi¬ 
ness, allow interest on deposits subject to check, and collect 
and remit, dividends and interest. High grade investment 
bonds and securities. Members of the New York Stock 
Exchange. 

Pennsylvania—Pittsburg—The First National Bank of Pitts¬ 
burg, Steamship Department, corner Fifth Avenue 
and Wood Street. 

Established 1852. Capital and surplus, $3,400,000. Rep¬ 
resents all lines to Europe, South Africa, Australia, and the 
East. Sells its own letters of credit and travelers’ checks. 
Issues drafts and buys and sells foreign bank notes. Makes 
cable transfers. In direct account with banks and bankers 
in all parts of the world. Forwarding agency. Best facili¬ 
ties for foreign collections. 


STEAMSHIP OFFICES AND AGENCIES. 


Indiana—Evansville—Henry M. Sweetser & Co. 

Brokers in stocks, bonds, commercial paper, investment 
securities, mortgage bonds, real estate, etc. Collections a 
specialty. 


Buy and sell:— 

Cotton mill bonds. 

State and county bonds. 
Municipal bonds. 

First mortgage bonds. 

Gas and water bonds. 
Government bonds. 
Railroad bonds. 

School bonds. 

Bank and railroad stocks. 
Industrial stocks. 

Mining stocks. 


Agents for all steamship 
lines: — 

A Ben—American—Anchor. 
Atlantic Transport. 

Cunard—Dominion. 

French lane 'learners. 
Hamburg American. 
Holland America. 

Ley land—Fabre. 

New York & Puerto Rico. 
North German Lloyd. 

Red “D”—Ward. 


Commercial paper discounted. Red and White Star. 

Notes bought and sold. Scandinavian American. 

Crown potteries bonds. Canadian Pacific Atlantic S. S. 

Office. Bayard Building, 216 Upper First Street, first floor. 
’Phone 707, long distance. 


Mnine Bangor—-Blake, Harrows & Brown. Established 
thirty-six years at 9 Central Street. 

l,„J* nd fo S a ” the best known steamship 

lines Foreign and domestic letters of credit. Travelers’ 
checks Independent and personally-conducted tours every¬ 
where by best lines. Information cheerfully furnished 


Maryland—Baltimore—A. Schumacher & Co., 5 South Gay 
Street. 

Agency for the North German Llovd, whose Baltimore 
line deserves the attention of all tourists from the South and 
West. Weekly boats to Bremen. They are built in the most 
substantial manner with water-tight compartments, supplied 
with powerful and thoroughly-tested engines, are fitted up in 
the very best and most comfortable manner, and have splen¬ 
did accommodations for cabin passengers. Send for printed 
description. Moderate rates. 


Massachusetts—Boston—II. W. Dunning & Co., 106 Congrega¬ 
tional House, 14 Beacon Street. Western Office, 635 
Fine Arts Building, Chicago. 

Agents for all the principal steamship and railroad lines. 
Full information regarding routes and tours in all parts of 
the world. Conducted parties and arrangements for inde¬ 
pendent travelers in all parts of the world. Baedeker and 
Murray guide books. Letters of credit, American Express 
Company, and International Mercantile and Marine Company 
checks. 

New Jersey—Newark—Joseph 31. Byrne Co., 800 Broad Street. 

General steamship agency, securing passage for any class 
by any line. Newark representatives of Cook’s Tours, the 
first and foremost. Cook’s hotel coupons furnished. Itinera¬ 
ries, cabin plans, sailing lists, etc., on application. 

New York—Brooklyn—Julius Lehrenkrauss & Sons, 379 Ful¬ 
ton Street. 

Established 1878. Brooklyn Official Steamship Agency 

for the North German Lloyd, Hamburg-American, German 
Mediterranean service, American, White Star, Red Star, 
Cunard. French, Holland-American, Allan-State, Scandina- 
vian-American, and other trans-Atlantic and all coastwise 
steamship lines. Also Brooklyn representatives of Thomas 
Cook & Son, and Raymond & Whitcomb Tourist Companies. 
Brown Brothers & Co.’s, Ladenburg, Thalmann & Co.’s, 
Knautb, Nachod & Kuhne’s, and their own letters of credit 
issued on the premises. International Mercantile Marine, 
and American Express Travelers’ checks issued. Drafts and 
cable payments to all parts of the world. Foreign money 
supplied to and bought of travelers. Passports procured 
within forty-eight hours. Established banking connections 
in all leading cities of the world. General foreign hanking 
business conducted. Steamship tickets and berths sold at 
company’s regular rates without extra charge. 

Pennsylvania—Philadelphia—Allan Line Steamship Company, 
Ltd. H. & A. Allan, General Agents, 421 Chestnut 
Street. 

Regular passenger service from Philadelphia to Glasgow, 
Scotland, via. St. John’s, N. F. Passengers carried to both 
ports at moderate rates. Staunch, comfortable vessels. No 
overcrowding. A good way to spend your vacation. Send 
for sailing circular and further particulars. 


Ontario—Toronto—The Allan Line, H. F. Bradlev, 77 Yonge 
Street. 

General agent, representing the Allan Line, the most 
comfortable, commodious, elegant, and convenient for Cana¬ 
dian tourists. Fine new boats, with every modern conven- 


ience for the pleasure and comfort of the passenger. Also 
the Allan Dine, from Boston for Glasgow. Full information 
to any intending tourist. 


TOUR MANAGERS. 

Massachusetts—Boston—Thomas Cook «fc Sous, 332 Washing¬ 
ton Street. 

Boston office of the best-known tourist agency in the 
world, with an unequaled reputation for aiding travel, re¬ 
ducing its difficulties to the minimum, and increasing its 
pleasures to the maximum. Cook’s Excursionist, issued 
monthly, gives full details of numerous European tours, per¬ 
sonally conducted, as well as of all the other facilities put 
at the service of those who travel in parties or independently. 

H. W. Dunning & Co., 106 Congregational House, 14 Beacon 
Street, Boston, Mass. Western Office, 635 Fine Arts 
Building, Chicago. 

Established 1S95. Parties and independent tours to 
Egypt and Palestine, all parts of Europe, and around the 
world. We make a specialty of tours in Egypt and Palestine. 
Dr. H. W. Dunning was instructor in Semitic languages in 
Yale University for several years. He is a specialist in the 
literature, languages, and archaeology of these countries. No 
other firm doing business there can combine the scholar’s 
knowledge with practical experience. Tours planned for in¬ 
dependent travelers and private parties. Some of the best- 
known scholars and clergymen have made this trip under 
our care. Our specialty in Europe is Norway, Sweden, and 
Russia. We have several tours each season under the care 
of experienced men. Independent tours arranged. Our tours 
around the world usually leave in the fall and travel west¬ 
ward. We also have a spring tour to Hawaii and Japan. 
Our Western office makes a specialty of arranging European 
tours for Pacific coast residents, as well as tours to Japan 
and around the world. 




























































































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